Who: John Dawlish & Rolf Scamander What: Coming home after a pre-Christmas dinner with John's family Where: Their flat When: Tonight Warnings/Rating: TBA
Just pleasantly warm from the two glasses of wine he'd had with dinner, John shook out his damp, chilly coat and hung it inside the door. He was never quite at ease coming off a visit with any of his family, but tonight his nerves were jangling in a good way, slipping out of a state of tension that was more like excitement than anxiety. Things had gone, he thought, really well, though not exactly as he'd expected.
He always loved going to see Robin's kids - they were his favorite part of any family gathering, and had been since they were born, and would be, he supposed, until they were old enough to stop being impressed merely by the fact that he was their uncle. To see Rolf getting on with them - and so easily - had tugged at something in him that meant a lot, somehow, even if he didn't know what it meant. Robin and Jean had been wary at first, as they usually were (and not without reason) when he turned up, but it hadn't taken more than twenty minutes of Rolf being his usual charming self to relax everything. And if John had left with the distinct impression that his sister suspected a little more about their relationship than he'd intended her to, he'd also left more convinced than ever that, no matter the situation, Rolf improved him. And that made him nervous and a little exhilarated and quite happy.
"Thanks for coming," he said, stepping up behind Rolf to take his coat for him. "You were great. Really. I can tell Robin likes you an awful lot." She'd practically told John as much when he went to help her in the kitchen; although the precise word she'd used might have been 'dishy,' he knew what she meant. They weren't exactly an expressive family.