WHO: Joseph Bell & Betty Braithwaite. WHAT: Betty distracts Joe from the Ministry. WHEN: 6 February, lunchtime. WHERE: Ministry, then outside the Ministry. WARNINGS: None.
Betty had been lying when she said she didn’t use Hooter, and she’d spotted the messages about Gawain Robards late into the night. Bad news usually got her writing, but this time Betty couldn’t bring herself to even try typing. The usual people she’d talk to in times of distress weren’t the ones that she wanted to speak to, and instead she spent the rest of the night lying awake. He’d been the best hope of legitimate resistance, and she expected that was why Robards had been murdered.
Tuesday morning came and she felt equally restless, devouring the front page news before turning up at her desk and trying to make some semblance of what had happened and why there suddenly seemed to be an honest account of it. She poured over the words, before eventually twisting the page in her hands and giving up.
It was time for lunch.
Within a short space of time she was at the Ministry’s front desk, politely asking for Joseph Bell and apologising for not having an appointment. A coffee cup in either hand, she was echoing something she’d done a few times during their relationship but never unannounced. But, with that wry feeling that she was right about it, she imagined that he’d want to be out of that building for a little while too. Even if it was just a lunch hour.
He had appeared at the front desk, some five minutes later, half-confused about his unannounced guest. Joe shot her a look, as if to suggest that she may not actually want to be around here at this particular moment but he decided not to say anything about it.
Instead: "What're you doing here?" No greeting, no pleasant exchange, nothing. Straight to the point.
Betty’s withering look in response to his subtle attempt at warning her off was a little softer than it could usually be from her. She held up the coffee and tried a smile, hesitant. “Lunch?” Betty offered, trying to sound lighter than she felt. “I think we both need a little time out of the office right now.”
There were no attempts to pour over the gory details of the previous night’s events, or questions about the murder scene or his work. Just a simple, friendly proposal.
Joe considered the proposal for a few seconds, glancing at his watch to assess the time, and ended up nodding. "Alright, lunch." He closed in on the gap between them, placing his hand on the small of her back, guiding her away from this overwatched part of the Ministry.
Leaning in close to her, Joe whispered in her ear, "You do know Gawain was murdered here? It's not safe, Bets."
She passed him one of the cups of coffee, frowning as he spoke. “I know,” she insisted, although she oddly found that protectiveness endearing and couldn’t deny that touch at the back of her coat did bring her comfort. She exhaled slowly, walking fast towards the doors. “I just — I thought you needed a break.” Concern wasn’t just his domain.
With the coffee in his hand now, Joe took a sip from it and remained quiet until they had both exited the premises. Once outside, he let go of her back and took a step away from her, with a knowing look as both of his brows shot up. "You know I can't give you many details about it and besides," he paused, taking another sip. "Narcissa seems to have given the world the supposed truth."
Betty nodded, tense, closing both her hands around her own cup of coffee. It was chilly outside, but it felt better to be talking freely. “I can’t believe it happened,” she confessed, shaking her head slowly. “I thought he was going to be the one who — I don’t know.” She looked up at Joe, blindly hoping for some kind of reassurance. “Narcissa Bloody Malfoy is fucking with people now, anyway.” Her expression darkened and she glanced at her coffee cup.
"When has she not fucked with people?" Joe muttered bitterly, his thoughts ranging from various articles the newspaper had published recently. He followed that up with a scoff and then nodded away from the Ministry entrance, as though he expected more people to show up suddenly.
Once they were far enough, and had happened upon an empty bench, he took a seat, patting the spot next to him. "Thanks for entertaining me on my break," he finally spoke, offering her a genuine smile, despite not having many reasons to smile recently.
Betty sat next to him, close but not too close, and sipped her coffee gently before replying. “I was being serious about needing time out, you know,” she told him, matching his smile with one of her own. “I found myself sat at my desk re-reading her damn article, trying to work out how exactly she’s fucking with us this time. Is it the general public, does she know,” Betty’s eyes widened as she stressed that agonising secret. “Is she just bored? She said we can’t retract anything we’ve done, so why just this time?”
Betty tapped the side of her coffee cup with her fingernails, sighing softly. “So I figured I needed time out, and considering the last twenty-four hours you’ve had,” she hesitated, and looked at him to finish the sentence if he chose to do so.
Joe didn't finish that sentence.
Instead, his gaze trickled to her fingers as they tapped on her cup, and he simply remained quiet. What was he supposed to do, what was he supposed to say? Why was he still sticking around the Ministry? Someone was literally murdered there.
He frowned, his eyes now focused on the top of his own coffee cup and he pursed his lips. "I don't even know what I'm doing anymore," he admitted after a moment. "I keep thinking I do know, but I don't. And I don't know what to do, going forward. I can't do what you're doing, like starting a secret law enforcement group or whatever. And I'm utterly useless and powerless where I am. And —"
Joe didn't finish his last thought. He wasn't sure it was coherent enough to utter out loud.
“You’re not useless,” Betty was quick to contradict him. “I can’t claim to know how you feel or what you’re doing, but I know you’re not useless.” Any other time she would’ve taken his hand, some physical gesture to show her faith in him, but now was different. Other than one chaste kiss on the cheek on Sunday night she’d been doing some kind of hesitant dance about him. “Having you, or people like you, it gives people that little shred of confidence they need that things will change.”
"People probably felt that way about Gawain, too," Joe mumbled quietly, looking away and at random passersby on the street. He chuckled bitterly, the sudden irony of it all.
“Then we just have to make sure the rest of you survive it,” Betty told him quietly.
"Here's hoping," Joe replied, raising his coffee cup to toast the air, before taking another sip from it.
A moment later, he turned to face Betty. "I'm glad he got to read your obituary, though. Do you think you could write one for him?" He sounded optimistic — hopeful, even — that she could potentially say yes. "I don't know much about journalistic writing, but I could help somehow. If you need help, that is."
“Of course,” Betty said, resolute. “I’m not letting Narcissa Malfoy get one over on me at all.” She took another sip, considering his offer. The more she thought about it, the more touching it was. “I’ll take assistance, if it comes from you,” she smiled softly, warming to him. “Whatever you need.” A pause, another sip of coffee. Cautiously, gently, she leaned closer to him. “It’s terrible that this all happened.” Terrible didn’t quite do it justice.
Joe nodded, trying his damned hardest not to chuckle again, however bitter he felt as instead cleared his throat. "They're the worst kinds of people. Preaching about magical culture and killing and murdering and doing Merlin knows what in the name of 'advancing' antiquated beliefs. It's disgusting," he spat, clearly irritated by everything.
Joe leaned towards Betty, as well, subconsciously mirroring her body movements, and once close enough, he pressed his lips against her cheek.
“You’d kiss me with that mouth?” Betty couldn’t resist the joke, the hint of a smirk that accompanied it. She could feel her cheeks warming, but tried to maintain some semblance of calm.
"You don't seem to mind," Joe pointed out, his own lips twitching as he smiled against her skin. And just as quickly, he pulled his head back, quirked a brow and leaned back against the bench, a little playful smirk appearing on the corner of his mouth.
“Well, it’s nice to see you smiling,” she reasoned coolly, turning her attention back to her coffee.
Slightly taken aback by her sudden change of mood, Joe decided do back pedal entirely and exhaled loudly, before sitting up straight. "So where's this large buffet you promised for lunch? I'm famished and this," he paused, pointing out the coffee cup, "wee bit of coffee isn't really going to help me. Mum says I'm a growing boy, you know."
“You have such little faith in me,” Betty told him, pulling her satchel up to her lap and opening it. She produced a wrapped-up sandwich, purchased on the way to see him, and passed it to him before pulling an identical one from the bag for herself. “There.”
"You're an angel, Braithwaite," Joe remarked, taking the sandwich from her hand and opening the package. "And a chicken sandwich at that, too. You really do know me."
Did that bit of knowledge amuse or frighten him? Joe didn't entirely know.
“I try,” she smiled, her hand lingering beside his for just a split second longer than seemed necessary. “It’s not much, but hopefully enough to keep your spirits up until dinner.” Betty opened her own sandwich but didn’t start eating it just yet, all of the unsaid things in her head still distracting her too much.
Joe noticed, though. He'd always noticed when her mind seemed preoccupied and he considered for a brief moment about letting it go, but instead he nudged her side with his elbow. "A sickle for your thoughts?" he offered, with one brow arched. "What's up?"
Her lips twisted into some kind of wry expression, truly unsure of how to voice exactly how she was feeling. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t really know how — it’s just — this is nice. It’s nice and peaceful.” She stared down at the sandwich. “But every time I feel like I’m relaxing or content for a moment I just remember all of the terrible things happening around us.” She shook her head slowly. It was a conflict of emotions that she didn’t want to understand fully.
It was nice. Despite their tendency to argue and not argue and somehow repeat that cycle over and over again, in these recent few weeks, Joe could agree that these moments were nice.
"Shouldn't we appreciate these moments because of that?" Joe reasoned, his brows knitting together as though he was in some serious thinking mode right now. "Honestly, Bets, I'm just glad I have something like this to even look forward to, even if it's just getting a message from you on the network or whatever."
She was slow to agree, wary of admitting her feelings in such a way. “Me too,” she finally decided upon the words, simple and short. She watched him closely, giving him space to say something more if he wanted.
"Would you want to go on a date someday, maybe?" Joe suddenly blurted out, without a warning.
Pleasantly surprised, she nodded. She could feel that warmth in her cheeks once more against the cold air. “I’d like that very much.” There was some kind of hope that things could be better, now that there was more honesty. Now that he knew what she was really trying to do.
"Okay." Joe smiled, though it disappeared from view behind his sandwich as he brought it to his face. He hadn't expected this sort of twist and he certainly didn't mind the way this day had gone so far. Now if everything else could be just as pleasant…
And then a nagging thought came into mind that he wanted to say out loud. "Could we keep this between us for now? I just don't want to put you in any more danger, you know?"
She was unable to hide the fact that her smile faltered. “Everything we know is in danger at this point, isn’t it?” She gazed down at her sandwich. But maybe this was worth the risk. A deep breath, and she continued speaking. “But if you think that’s for the best then I can do that.”
"For now, anyway," Joe was quick to add. "Just to make sure that … it's not just something so…," he paused, trying to figure out what word truly encapsulated what he meant, without causing any offense. "Casual," he finished lamely, even though he was well aware that neither of them were ever into anything casual. But Joe didn't want to freak her out with any serious talks, not right now, anyway.
That smile seemed to return a little, lingering as she finally opened the packaging on her own sandwich. Casual wasn’t a thing that worked for her, and from experience she knew it wasn’t for him either. “That’s fair,” she agreed. She almost felt as though she should shake his hand, make it official in some way.
She went for a better option, and she placed a hand on his shoulder to turn him slightly before leaning in to kiss him.
As surprised as he was about that, Joe was eager enough to return that kiss, even though it was only for a moment. "There's no going back from this, Braithwaite," he murmured, a smirk following. "No going back at all."
She watched his smirk happily, squeezing his shoulder briefly before turning her attention back to her sandwich. “Just as well that I don’t want to then.”