InsaneJournal

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"I don't hafta pay right?" Meaghan said, giving Hamish a sly sidelong look as the waitress left with their drinks order. "Shouldn't hafta pay, on my births and all. And since you invited," she added. She might not have expected him to take her out for her birthday but that sure wouldn't stop her milking this for all she could, even if she did make a helluva lot more money than him.

She grinned shamelessly at Hamish. It didn't actually matter if he said yes or no, it was good enough going out. She'd been at her mum's the afternoon and was going to Greece with Scrim tomorrow but she hadn't had a thing in place night of yet, and that's the normal time she usually would be doing birthday shit. Even if he had sprung it on her just like that, after pushing and making her talk about birthday shit in the first when she didn't wanna.

"Of course you don't have to pay," Hamish replied, looking at her surprised. "Said I was takin' you out, didn't I?" Who cares if she made more money than him, it was her birthday. And given the way Maggie had reacted when they were writing back and forth earlier he had started to get an idea of why Meaghan wasn't having a party so he was hoping this would at least make up for some of it.

Even if it had been a tumultuous twenty-four hours when it came to how he felt about the entire night. At least they'd soon have drinks in front of them.

Normally Meaghan would've said something like damn right, and sat back with a face all-over smug, but these days it was harder to hang on to that level of confidence. There were few enough people asking after her birthday, after all, much less insisting on taking her out, and she wasn't so dumb as to be ungrateful for the company and the proof of friendship, even if he wouldn't be near as friendly if he knew the whole story.

But she still fully intended on taking advantage of his generosity. "Cheers then," Meaghan said with a quarter of her usual satisfied smile.

Having a better understanding of what had gone down with the team than she even realised, Hamish had guessed that was behind the lack of a party or even any sort of enthusiasm from her regarding her birthday that year. He was more upset with Dunbar for not being here. Or maybe he was upset with himself, who knew.

"Cheers," he said, reaching for his drink as soon as they were brought over so he could toast to Meaghan properly. "And happy birthday!" Sure, it may be an off year, but they could still make the most of it.

***

Several drinks later the mood had lifted considerably, assisted by the timely arrival of Meaghan's brother and his band. Hamish was claiming no part in that, but he wasn't denying anything either. Even if it was a small party, there wasn't any reason there still couldn't be a party, right?

Kirley had been more than happy to make the party by crashing it. Not really knowing -- or, to be honest, caring about -- the situation, he just thought his sister was doing her dumbarse overreacting thing again, more dramatic than usual even if it was quieter too. The only thing you could do in the situation was ignore what she said she wanted, 'cause if you knew Meaghan at all you knew it wasn't true.

The rest of the band had been up for it too: they'd known her birthday was coming and some of them -- Myron, mainly -- were mad at being denied the expected wild bash. Any worries the young half of the band might have about being welcome were ignored, and finally set to rest by the look of delight on Mig's face when the entire Weird Sisters descended upon her table unexpectedly.

See? This was why you listened to the brother and the ex. And Myron, when you could pull him away from a mirror or a mic long enough to talk.

"Noooooo, no singin'," Meaghan laughed at Myron and the rest of the bandmates scattered about her. But she looked a helluva lot better than she'd sounded two days ago and she wasn't foolin' anyone: she obviously loved the attention.

"Singing's traditional."

"Singing's annoyin'."

But Myron being Myron, he had to have his chance to show off, and with Orsino setting a beat on the tabletop they burst into energetic song. The surreptitious whispers and semi-subtle doubletakes they had been getting flipped to outright gaping because yes, that was the Weird Sisters in case there was any doubt, and they were all there together in public and they were singing.

That was gonna spread fast.

***

The pub filled up faster than Hamish could have expected, a mixture of unfamiliar faces with the occasional friend showing up. But all that really mattered to him was the look on Meaghan’s face back at the table. He stood at the bar, watching as she soaked in the attention, laughing at something someone said and looking far more relaxed than he’d seen her recently.

He returned, reclaiming his seat and sliding a beer over her way. “Alright?” he asked her, a self-satisfied grin on his face.

Meaghan grinned back as she claimed her beer, wider and realer than she had at the start of the night. This was what she'd wanted from her birthday, what she always wanted, but not what she thought she was gonna get this year.

She felt real too, more than she had in weeks.

"You dint have to do this!" she said, leaning toward him and raising her voice to be heard over sound of the party -- her party, that he'd done for her.

“It’s your birthday,” he replied, all the explanation needed. But he was smiling brightly back at her, happy that it’d turned out even better than he could have hoped.

And bloody hell, it was good to see her happy.

It was good to be happy. To have someone talk like Meaghan normally would, it's your birthday so of course you get this, you deserve this. Just taken for granted and assumed. She'd been clawing and scrambling to try to get back to feeling that way for ages, and here Hamish was just made it happen.

She leaned forward to say something else, but a cheer from the door distracted her. There was Wilda, hair pale as the moon and lifting her camera as she walked in to take the first official picture of the party.

"Thanks for the invite, McCormack!" she called, and some of other Quidditchers there rolled their eyes and called back their condolences at how inconsiderate Meaghan had been this year, worse than usual really.

But even as sensitive as Meaghan could be, and especially lately, she could tell there was no heat in it. Everyone was fine. They were just glad to be there (though in some cases, more to catch sight of the band).

No, he couldn't have predicted this turnout, even as the Weird Sisters launched into another song. But he thought the night was pretty damn perfect and it wasn't even over yet.

***

When they finally left it was well into the early hours of the morning, and he found himself with her outside of her place. It was cold, and she needed to go inside, but the fresh air was a welcome change after the crowded pub and the artificial warmth of the buzz he'd nursed for hours. Part of him didn't want the evening to end, so he lingered there a moment before saying quietly, "Hey, so happy birthday."

Meaghan laughed, a pure and normal easy laugh like she hadn't thought she could anymore. She was full of that buzz too, and that giddy flying feeling you got after a great night and plenty of drink. "Izzit my birthday? Izzit my birthday?" she said, hand to her chest in mock shock.

She nudged Hamish. "Izzat was all this was for then?"

She was just teasing him, and he knew that. Or he thought he knew that. Actually he didn't really care what he knew at the moment. His attention was on her and the smile that hadn't left for hours, and possibly on the fact that it was him there with her, not anyone else.

"Maybe," he said quietly, leaning in. He hesitated only a second until his lips were pressed to hers, and then he just stopped thinking altogether.

Maybe not.

Meaghan was an athlete, with a good eye and great reflexes. And even if they were dulled a bit by the booze buzz, there'd never been a kiss she hadn't seen coming at least a little, for that split second before impact, enough to react. And even if she couldn't always stop it, always supposing she wanted to, there was nothing preventing her from pushing a bloke away. She'd done it a few times before. She didn't worry about being nice.

She didn't push Hamish away.

She hadn't been the one to step back from it all. She hadn't thought there was any reason to do so. Why not keep on as they had? It'd been good, it'd been nice. He was fun when she'd needed it. What else mattered?

And she'd needed it tonight, too.

So she kissed him back, because he was warm and sweet and he hadn't kissed her in years and she hadn't fought him over it but she never understood why he stopped either.

And because it was her birthday. Fuck everything else, she could have a snog tonight if it was offered.

He had stepped back. He'd stepped back because of Dunbar, because he didn't think it was right to keep shagging someone who your mate was seriously interested in. Or at least that's what he'd told himself at the time and all the time since then.

And maybe that was part of it but the other part, the part that Hamish didn't so readily admit to, was that he was always looking for an excuse to not get too close or too attached. Dunbar had handed him one and Hamish had taken it and run with it.

He wasn't sure that he was done with running now, but he definitely wasn't pulling away when she didn't either. He'd missed her. The way she could tease him, make him think she could take him or leave him, yet always draw him back. The way she could enter a room and command attention upon herself.

The way she was commanding his attention now, his arms slipping around her, pressing his body to hers, entirely familiar to him as if it hadn't been years at all. But if they continued on that path this wasn't going to end with a snog. And that unwelcome thought somehow lodged itself into his brain and wouldn’t leave, causing him to draw back.

Just enough.

Meaghan followed him for a moment, instantly, her mouth seeking the warmth of his. But as he'd pulled away, she had just that second for her brain to catch up to the loss and she paused a breath away, eyes opening, suddenly unsure.

He'd started every part of this. She'd been confused last night when he brought shit up again, but this… she knew she hadn't read this wrong. So what was the problem?

Was there a problem? He only had a moment to decide, his eyes on hers, reading the unspoken question.

His answer was unspoken too as he closed the gap between them once more, leaving any further questions for the morning when he might be sober enough to properly consider them.

That was all the answer Meaghan needed. She pulled him inside, and seconds later, the door clicked shut behind them.