InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Love, D.Va!"

It had been a long few weeks and things were about to get longer and harder for both Florrie and Shona with the Neep on top of them and the playoffs as well. The only way to deal with it was to have wine and cheese and little snacks at Shona's, where Florrie didn't worry about Meaghan and Scrimmy catching wind of any critical comments she had to make about Portree. Which were, sadly, a lot.

"... and, well, I can't repeat what she said, obviously, but I'm not surprised she had to sit out Tutshill and I'm sure she'll be back for the Neep. Meaghan has a good heart--" which should have been clear to Shona, who had a good idea of what Meaghan and Florrie had been up to together during the war "--but she has a hard time with things. I can't speak to her brother because I don't know him well enough, but I reckon Catriona McCormack has a thing or two to answer for in how she raised Meaghan or Meaghan would be less afraid of everything and more sure of herself and her place in the world.

Shona nodded along to her cousin’s retelling, knowing full well what the cast of characters was like, for the most part. Not all of the Portree people very well, but Meaghan, yes. And while Florrie was right, Meaghan had her heart in the right place (most of the time) she could be a bit reckless to the point it would cost her, both professionally and likely personally. “I’m not even going to attempt to fill in those gaps, because frankly, Meaghan is not my problem unless she hurts one of my players.” It was safer, to keep a step back. Always good to present a neutral front, anyway, rather than badmouth anyone. “Though I’ve wondered the same thing.” She assured Florrie as she poured herself some more wine.

“Sounds like you had quite the time with all of that, though,” she added in a more sympathetic tone, and reached a hand over to pat Florrie comfortingly on the leg.

"It's harder to get away from it when you live with it. I definitely need to start looking for a new place of my own in the off season." Florrie took a sip of her wine; telling that story had been thirsty work. "I've enjoyed being den mum but I need to spend more time wi' Montrose folk and, as much as I adore Meaghan, a bit less wi' Portree.

"I realised the other day that almost all my friends were tied up one way or another with Portree, and most of them directly with Elsie. And I know I should be over what happened at Christmas but the truth is, I think I'm not." Florrie made a face, half-bewildered and half-sad, at Shona. "I'm a wee bairn about all that still and I shouldna be."

Florrie's accent had thickened noticeably again since her return to Scotland and spending most of her time around the players, particularly Angus.

Shona noticed how Florrie sounded like she’d jumped straight down from the Highlands not five minutes ago, and hid an amused smile. Which disappeared at the mention of Elspeth MacFusty, a name she normally preferred to remain unmentioned in her household. “Why should you be over what happened at Christmas? She slapped you, Florrie.” Shona reminded her sharply, and put down her wine glass. “You’re allowed to be hurt and upset and anything else you’re feeling.”

"She's na my patient," Florrie said, as if she had to remind herself of that. "I just--I have a hard time with the line between what's personal there and what's professional. When she went off to Vienna, I thought she wasna coming back for months and then she came back and was coaching again. After she'd fought with Lorna and Meaghan and Maggie, and--the rest of what she'd done as well. Maggie and I were talking about things--" and there Florrie did smile a little, because she was so pleased that Maggie was going back to sit her exams that she couldn't help but let go of her own hurt and anger "--and after the season she's going to QUABBLE and to Mungo's to complain of Elsie and make sure she's fit to coach if she comes back, and I've agreed to support her.

"It's hard for me not to think that I should have done this in December when everyone had time to adjust to Roberts being coach. And that I've put players at risk by leaving things be. But I have a hard time not seeing her as a patient to be healed instead of remembering she hurt other people. And when I'm at--when I'm in that role, I'm not allowed to take it personally if a patient in pain says something awful or hits at me or some such."

Florrie's shoulders slumped a little. "But she's not, and by treating her like she is, now I feel as though I've done the wrong thing. And I'm not sure I know what the right thing is,"

“The whole situation in general is really fucked up, pardon my language.” Shona reached over to squeeze Florrie’s hand in comfort, though her facial expression may not have demonstrated the level of compassion she was attempting to convey. “She’s not well. And as much as you love her, you’re not her Healer. Even though I know you want to help. So of course you’re going to feel conflicted.” She poured some more wine, this time for herself, and took a long sip. “And, honestly? I don’t know how to help. I don’t care for Ellie. Any sympathy I had for her was gone the moment she hurt you, and any chance of her getting it back was gone the moment she hurt a member of her team. I don’t owe her any family loyalty.”

Shona glanced at the half-full bottle. “I can ply you with wine and I can listen to you vent, but other than that, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. If I’m allowed to admit that.”
"Nobody knows what we're supposed to do and that's half the problem," Florrie admitted ruefully as she took up her own glass and contemplated it. "But you're doing the important thing: listening. And you're one of the few people it's safe to admit that I don't know what to do and that I'm upset, still.

"If I let on to Merc how much it bothers me still, he'll be furious at Elsie again when he needs to keep professional distance until the end of the season, at least. You know as well as I do that we need to not rile him up more than he already is with half the side under my care. And you're also--look, I'm not speaking ill of Lorna or Meaghan or Doc or anyone, but they've all got reasons to want this smoothed over. And Elsie wants it smoothed over. But smoothing over has always meant giving Elsie things her way, and her going right back to what she's been doing before. And I canna do that again now. I canna, Shona. Maybe," Florrie confessed, "promising Maggie to support her with Mungo's is my way of putting mysel' on the spot so I canna back down one more time. And you and Maggie are the ones who remind me that I'm not the troublemaker here, that it's not on me to mend all the things Elsie broke."

Shona gave Florrie a sympathetic grimace. “You can always vent to me,” she promised. Always. Florrie was like her sister, and if a listening ear was what she needed, she would be the best one Florrie could ask for.

“It’s not on you.” Shona said firmly, and caught Florrie’s gaze to show the steel in her eyes. “And I will support you and Maggie in however you want to handle this. Because I agree - sweeping this under the rug will help no one, and you are certainly not a troublemaker. In this case.” She added, teasing a little, trying to coax some humor out of the situation, for both of their sakes.

"Aye, we'll not be telling Aunt Minerva that. She'll never believe you." Florrie made an effort to smile. "I'll try not to whinge too much about it. Instead I can whinge about all the patching up our lads need.

"I'm glad," she added, "that Jason got his race in, but now we're going into the Neep down half our reserves and with injured chasers. I worry how we'll do in the first match and whether our players will have time to rest up. Especially with the Falcons match in the last bloc, and then the second Neep match and the playoffs. We're about to have to start playing them injured just to put a full side on the field."

The older cousin bit her lip in frustration at the mention of their team. “Aye. I don’t like it any more than you do.” They may be seeded top in the league, but those numbers could always change, and the Neep could hardly be called predictable, and the summer rest period was still far enough away that they were nearly in crisis mode. “Run it by me, one more time. Who is definitely out of the next match, until they’re more firmed up?”

Florrie started counting them off on her fingers. "For Chasers, Merc asked me if he should play Doc or Jason, and Doc is in better shape, but not by much. If I had my way, they'd both sit out, but there simply is no other option. For Beaters, Kal's arm hasn't finished recovering so we have no reserve. And at Keeper, Ada's still coming back from the concussion she got from Wigtown. Wigtown was a pyrrhic victory. Another such and we'll be finished. And then we have the Falcons in the last bloc, and they'll be after Jason in particular and the rest of the team after everything with Monte Cameron. So a match against Portree, who we know can be brutal, and then the Falcons, who are brutal and have a grudge. If I were a praying sort--" none of them were, not really, but Florrie was considering it "--I'd pray that we take no more injuries between now and the Neep."

“I don’t like any of those odds.” Shona said with a wince, and drank some more wine to make herself feel better. It helped, a little. But, that was professional Quidditch. There were injuries. Players got hurt. Players held grudges. It wasn’t really an abnormal season in that respect; it just felt worse because they were living in that moment. “But I’ll try to be optimistic.” She shrugged. They’d gotten this far on a winning streak, at least. That was something.

"I'll nurse them as well as I can and hope I have everyone in shape for the Falcons. Even Jason should be in shape to play by then if he has to," Florrie said, and raised her glass to that. "Assuming we take no more injuries in the Neep and that the referees actually eject people instead of letting them foul again and again, we'll get through. That's the important part, in the end: win or lose, we all get through with a team we're proud of."

“Cheers,” Shona drank. They had a good team. There was never any doubt about that.