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Susan Amelia Bones (susanamybones) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

Susan snorted indelicately and punched Ernie good-naturedly on the arm. "I don't know what it says about the Ministry that I can tell you more hush-hush goings on in the MLE than you can tell me about St Mungo's - it's a bit worrying really."

Susan grinned impishly as Ernie held the door open, and headed for a big table in the corner, plonking herself down with a contended sigh.

"You're always dying for Irish stew. Or an Irishman - although not as much as our mutual friend is dying for a particular Irishman," she said with a lascivious wink. "I think I'll have the Irish stew too, and also the chips, because being hexed at makes me hungry."

Leaning back against her chair, Susan forced herself to relax and focused on not maintaining lines of sight and discerning control points and defensible positions throughout the room. To distract herself, she looked at Ernie. "So, any strapping young lads on the... what do Muggles say again? Sonar? Do you have any strapping young lad's on the sonar, Ernie?"