Who: Ted + Frank = Tenk? Fred? Oh, and Shaggydog! What: Talking and being BFFs Where: Starting at the Ministry, then off to the Longbottom home When: Thursday, 26th June, late afternoon/early evening Rating: PG if that? Status: Logged, Complete
Ted leaned back in his seat, his hands coming up to rub at his eyes. He groaned, and then looked at the stack of paperwork on his desk. Oh, how he missed the days of playing with puppies and caring for pregnant dogs and finding homes for kittens. Nowadays it was all paperwork and rules and regulations. He couldn't wear what he wanted, he had to keep clean and neat and now the department was a mess with the murder of Newt Scamander. He still didn't know what was going on-- who was going to take charge?
Sighing, Ted let his hands fall to his lap as he began to collect his things to leave for the afternoon. He had finished all of his work for the day and had an appointment of sorts with Frank. They'd at least chat for a bit-- he hadn't seen his friend in a while, after all.
Messenger bag slung over his shoulder, Ted double checked to be sure that he had his wand and everything he needed for the evening before making his way in the direction of the Auror offices. He knew Frank should be in, unless something had come up, and he hoped that he wasn't interrupting anything.
Frank, as it happened, had himself just gotten up to leave. Papers filed away under lock, key, and charm until he returned, his cubicle still looked as though it'd been the victim of a misdirected spell -- but then, a bare working space more often than not belonged to a dead Auror; the pinned maps, the scattered pictures and newspaper clippings, and the mugs that served double duty as both receptacle for caffeinated drinks and paper-weight, were all part of the norm. Plenty of adages about cluttered workspaces existed -- "messy desk, ordered mind," that sort of thing -- and Frank'd long since stopped trying to control the ever shifting landscape of his cubicle.
The only concession Frank made to tidiness was to store away important documents, but that was a habit created out of the necessity for security, to which a vague desire for some order was secondary. Once that was dealt with, he reached for his cloak, draping it over the crook of his elbow as he started off toward the lift, one hand dropping into a pocket to fish around for the pack of Muggle cigarettes within. It was crumpled and empty; with an expression of disappointment crossing his face, he looked up -- and smiled as the grates to the lift were pushed away, as Ted was within.
He stepped in. "Right on time." Frank looked as he always did, eyes bright in a face made pale and prematurely lined from a distinct lack of a good night's rest, but seeing his friend brought him genuine satisfaction, and he looked forward to whatever their appointment would yield. "Hullo, Ted."
"I do my best," Ted replied with a grin, stepping forward for a handshake and a hug. Hey, men could hug, too! He noticed the lines on his friend's face, but wasn't entirely sure if he could- or should, rather- mention it. "How are you doing, mate?"
The grates to the lift closed again behind him and Ted glanced over his shoulder-- they squeaked loudly and made another noise as the lift went off in another direction. "So...I'm not entirely sure what all we'll want to do today. Or where, really-- I haven't thought this whole practice plan through."
The lines, had they been mentioned, would have deepened briefly as Frank frowned in bemusement. It seemed that everyone these days was tired, and not a day went by without the desire to keep Alice locked in the house until she'd made up for all of those lost hours of sleep rising before being suppressed as soon as it'd surfaced -- if she ever caught wind of it, Alice would just point out he looked shittier than she did and then tell him to shut up about it. They were all tired. They could all use a year (or three's) worth of sleep. Frank didn't think of himself as a special case; the lines went unnoticed.
Ted's welcoming gesture was returned just as warmly -- a handshake, hug, and briefly gripping the other man's forearm before raising his arm to sling his cloak over his shoulder -- during which Frank got a good look at his friend's appearance. Beneath the cheer, Ted also looked tired, slightly more worn than Frank remembered... but then, the man had been put through the grinder recently. That he was still smiling? was good enough for Frank.
"Up for a Floo?" Adjusting his stance to prevent being knocked off his feet by the energetically moving lift, Frank glanced across at Ted in thought, rubbing his chin with his free hand. "Our place. I think there're leftovers in the kitchen. Unless...?"
"Floo works," Ted replied, stepping back into the lift and leaning against the wall of the lift. "And your place is just fine with me." One hand wrapped around the railing, holding himself steady as the box moved and flew along its path. The other hand came up, covering a yawn just as the lifts slowed to a stop. Ted motioned for Frank to step out before him and he followed.
"What kind of leftovers?" he asked, mostly just curious. He'd eat most anything, anyways. "And how's Shaggydog?"
Taking the cue, Frank stepped out of the lift, pausing for a brief moment to allow Ted time to catch up before starting off again, heading toward the security gates, beyond which lay the fireplaces that would allow them to depart by Floo.
"Hm? Oh." Frank signed out, passed through the gate after being waved through, and stuck his thumb under the strap of one dark red suspender as he waited for Ted. "Hopefully not viable ones. Otherwise we'll have to throw them to Shaggydog, whose stomach is, as ever, pretty much a rubbish bin."
Ted made his way through security-- Merlin, all that fuss and bother still made him nervous every time he had to go through it. He smoothed down his robes, scrunching up his nose when he noticed a small ink stain on the front. Ah, well. Not much he could do for it right now, yeah? Shrugging it off, he looked back to Frank with a grin.
"Nothing wrong with that, though. Er- about Shaggydog. So long as he's not getting sick on you, I mean."
Frank had to grin at that. It seemed that whenever he and Ted struck up a conversation, whether face to face, or over owls, the undeclared but running joke of saying the name of Frank and Alice's dog as many times as possible sprang up -- so far, they'd said it three times. The record, if memory served, was thirty-something; they had been immensely drunk that night.
"Shaggydog--" four; "-- is keeping it all down, as far as I'm aware. 'Course, he could be retching into Alice's shoes... in which case, I don't want to know about it, because then I'll catch hell from her." He was only half-joking -- women were so serious about their footwear, and Alice Longbottom was no exception -- but the strained half-tilt that passed as his smile these days appeared as they began to walk toward the fireplaces designated for departures. Women, the smile seemed to say; always so fussy about shoes and bags and those throw-pillows that, as far as Frank was concerned, were nothing but couch pests.
A moment later, they reached the departure area. After dropping his cloak back down so that it once again hung over his elbow, Frank took a handful of Floo Powder. "See you in a bit," he said, then threw the powder, causing flames to erupt, dancing and flickering around him as he called out the destination -- simply "Ribble Valley," as the Longbottom house was the only one in the area connected to the network -- and then disappeared in a flash of green.
"Good to hear," Ted replied. "Of course, I'm pretty sure if Shaggydog-" five- "was retching it up, then I would have heard about it, at least in passing." He remembered that night-- and sometimes wondered if they'd ever say it quite that many times in a conversation again. They would probably have to be really drunk. There were only so many jokes that could be made about Shaggydog, weren't there?
He was tempted to test it out. But he didn't, grinning as Frank mentioned wives, and took a handful of Floo Powder from the fireplace next to the one Frank stepped into. "See you," he replied, stepping in and calling out the same destination. Flames erupted and Ted felt himself sliding-- Merlin, even after fifteen years he still wasn't quite used to that.
He stumbled out on the other end, dust in his hair and a slight tear in his robes at the hem as he nearly tripped getting out. Ted regained his balance, only to have the aforementioned dog rushing out to greet them. "Shaggydog!" he exclaimed, laughing as he was nearly knocked back onto his arse. "It's good to see you too! Down, mate. You know the drill."
Only practice saved Frank from getting the exuberant welcome Ted was now receiving from the dog; blinking against soot, the scrabble of claws against the floor and a low bark alerted him to the rapidly approaching creature, and with a "good boy," followed by a fleeting pat on the head, Frank side-stepped Shaggydog, leaving Ted entirely open to his greeting. The aptly named Shaggydog -- although, truthfully, he was more enormous than shaggy -- rose onto his hind-legs, the front two coming to dig against Ted's shoulders as a wet, warm tongue found the man's face; clearly, in Shaggydog's eyes, Ted was a friend.
"Some guard dog," came Frank's voice from across the room. Cloak draped over the back of a chair, bag deposited on the floor, he'd popped open the top two buttons of his shirt by the time Shaggydog was coaxed back onto all four feet, and now motioned for Ted to make himself at home. "We've a couple of hours," he added. "Alice is on safe house duty for a while yet, but I've got to go back for curfew duty, so -- to business, yeah?" As always, time was lacking, and Frank slid partly back into the brisk manner in which he conducted most conversations while at work.
He continued with a, "Come on, let's find some food," then gestured for Ted to follow him into the kitchen. "Tell me what you need to work on, Ted -- Shaggy, away."
To be quite honest, Ted loved greetings like that from dogs. He wrapped his arms around the dog, scratching him behind the ears as he closed his eyes to keep Shaggydog from slobbering in places that slobber didn't belong. "Oh, but he's a good boy," Ted replied with a grin as Shaggydog dropped back to all four feet.
He shrugged his robes off and rolled up his sleeves, feeling a lot better now that he was only in his jeans and shirt. "That sounds good. I- we don't have to take too long with this, really- I don't want to be a bother or keep you from something else you need to be doing, of course."
Following Frank toward the kitchen, Ted was quiet for a few moments as he considered this. "I think- well, it feels a bit like everything. My defense could use a little work. Offense...It would be nice to know more than just a few blasting charms and elementary hexes and the like to retaliate when they're throwing stuff I've never even heard of at me. Defensively...Something to block the unforgivables? Is there even anything for that?"
The sound Frank made might have been a laugh, a snort, or a mix of both, but with his head tilted upward as it currently was as he examined the contents of a cupboard, it was hard to tell. A moment later, when he turned back to Ted, it was clear that whatever he found didn't exactly thrill him, and it was with a rather apologetic look on his face that he kicked out chairs for both of them and lowered himself into his usual slump, pushing a plate of crackers to the centre of the kitchen table before pulling out his wand and setting it before him.
"It's not a bother." And it wasn't -- how could helping a friend be a bother, especially when not helping could mean the difference between life and death? As Ted spoke, Frank reached for a cracker; he broke it into smaller pieces as he began to reply.
"Listen, if you have a solid defense? You're better off than Joe Wizard and Jane Witch. A good protego will throw a lot of shite back at the opponent's face -- that, knowing when to duck, and learning to recognize any hesitation or gaps in the other guy's attack and using that time to hit them will give anyone the chance to get out of there alive." Frank paused as Shaggydog, tail thumping against the floor, placed his head on his knee, and he reached out to rub the dog's ear. "Merlin knows I'd love a way to fight off an AK or a Cruciatus," he continued, words punctuated by a short bark of a laugh, "but besides advising you to grit your teeth during the second, and training yourself mentally to resist an Imperius, I can't help all that much with the Unforgivables."
Ted kept a hand on the back of Shaggydog's head as they walked into the kitchen, and he slowed as he watched Frank look through the cupboards. He lifted a shoulder in a shrug as he ambled over to take the proffered seat. He tugged his own wand out just before he sat on it, dropping it onto the table as he leaned forward to reach for a cracker.
"Thanks, mate." He leaned back, breaking his own cracker in two before popping a piece into his mouth. He was quiet as he listened to Frank, smiling a bit as he heard Shaggydog's tail thumping on the floor. "Gritting your teeth doesn't work so well," he replied with a wry grin. "But I've lived through that once twice; I figure I'll be alright if I run into it again." He hoped. "As for the Imperius...Well. I'll work on the defensive stuff. I guess-- well, I never really thought I'd need it, you know? Not that I thought it wasn't important, but I guess I just figured with my job- honestly. Who attacks the animals?"
He sighed, popping another cracker bit into his mouth. "I suppose there's a lot I hadn't really thought about. And it's...well, it's bloody terrifying, wanting to keep Andie and Dora safe while knowing there are people out there who are practically out for my blood. But...To be honest? I'd much rather get attacked than let them hurt my girls." Not that he wanted to be attacked, of course.
Frank nodded as Ted spoke, understanding. "We're fighting a war, Ted; of course it's terrifying." No comfort lay behind the words, only simple fact, for they were all far, far past the point of false (and potentially deadly) reassurances. Relying on a mantra of "it's going to be okay, it's going to be okay" would not help anyone.
"Twofold for you," he added, thinking of Ted's wife and daughter. "Just like I worry about Alice, everyday, now -- but I have to trust in her competence, you know? Otherwise I wouldn't be able to function." Sagging shoulders suddenly twitched upward in a shrug, and he reduced what was left of his cracker into a small pile of crumbs with unrelenting fingers, watching almost thoughtfully as they fell back on to the plate.
A moment later, as though an invisible puppeteer had given a commanding tug, Frank abruptly straightened. "Right, so. We'll test your shielding spells first. Defending yourself is an instinctive thing, so defensive magic comes easier than offensive to most. Shaggy, away, mate." With a gentle nudge of his knee, Frank pushed Shaggydog to the side, then stood, taking his wand in hand and gesturing to the door that led to the garden.
"We'll work outside, so we don't break anything. Later --" he motioned for Ted to follow him out the door, pausing just before the doorway as Shaggydog barged past in a bounding run, "if there's time, I can show you a few drills you can practice with Andromeda, and then you can tell me how to keep Shaggydog from digging up the -- Shaggy, NO."
Ted nodded. He was used to telling himself that everything would be okay, and Frank's words were a stark reminder that in this reality, it wasn't necessarily true. Just thinking about it exhausted him, but he straightened anyways. "I know what you mean. I know Andie can take care of herself, but still. I'd rather take it than her."
He was quickly on his feet, nearly tripping over Shaggydog as he turned to follow Frank. He was two steps from the table before he turned back, swiping his wand up and turning back toward the door. "Outside works. I'm clumsy enough as it is; I can only imagine how much worse it would be inside."
Humming softly to himself, Ted followed Frank out into the gardens, where they worked late into the deep dark night- well. Until Frank had to head off for his patrolling and Ted had to head home, barely making curfew. And Shaggydog? He was never far from their sides.