who ? max davies, terence higgs and siobhan vaisey when ? early thursday afternoon, 3rd november where ? the ministry of magic, then st mungo’s what ? sticky stuck status ? complete
Higgs did not mind training days. And if he kept repeating that long enough in his head, he was sure it ought to start feeling like it, too. For some bizarre reason, the hitwitch and wizard department felt the need to have a training day whenever the aurors did. Which would have been fine, if the department wasn’t one third of the size. The aurors actually had people to train, whilst the hitwitch and wizards, well, did not. So training days mostly involved moving shit about. Which, Higgs was very sure was not in his contract. Nonetheless, he had been assigned to move some of the seized artifacts off to the storage. Thankfully, it was someone else’s job to deal with the dangerous ones, which meant that Higgs was mostly left with bits and pieces that no one had really bothered moving. Because the organization of his office was evidently top notch.
It was Higgs’ third trip of the day, and hopefully the last, because he was down to one item, a weird stick like thing that no one had quite known where it came from or what it was. In retrospect, Higgs probably should have been marginally safer with it. For one, getting in the lift with it was a right pain because it was so tall, and then when Higgs did manage he could barely reach the button for the floor with the storage units. The smart thing to do would’ve been to ask the other person in the lift with him to press it for Higgs, but as a barely achieved Hogwarts degree illustrated, Higgs wasn’t always the smartest of people. So instead, he leaned forward to push the button and in turn the stick tapped the shoulder of the man in front of him.
There wasn’t a light flash or a sound or anything (which was probably great because the kind of run up Higgs had had to November, he wasn’t sure how well he would’ve done with that), but the stick did... well, Higgs wasn’t too convinced what it did but it seemed to disappear in as much as suck the space between Higgs and the man in, pushing them towards each other until their arms brushed and electricity-like sparks swirled around them. Then, the stick was gone and Higgs’ arm was physically attached to--and really, he probably should’ve identified Max Davies well before getting physically stuck to him, but in Higgs’ defense, it had been years since he’d last seen the man.
“Fuck,” Higgs uttered because it seemed really rather appropriate. He moved his arm and with his came Max’s. They weren’t stuck together in as much as they seemed to share an arm. Pulling his (their?) arm back, Higgs frowned. Yeah, that was definitely not going to be fixed by just tugging on. Higgs wasn’t even terribly sure what to do about it, because it was definitely his fault. Christ did he need some coffee.
With a sigh, Higgs titled his head back. “Sorry,” he offered with basically just a shrug since there was fuck all else he could do right now about it. They probably needed to go to St Mungo’s. The idea of being stuck to Max fucking Davies was not one Higgs particularly cared to prolong,
--
Max had been having a good day. He always enjoyed being called out to the Experimental Charms Committee because their records were nearly as immaculately kept as Max could wish for, and he found the bureaucracy of the Ministry thoroughly satisfying. All he had left to do was take the notes he’d made back to his office and have one of his secretaries make duplicates. (He could have used a spell, but Max insisted that the copying out of dense legal paperwork was educational.)
His mood didn’t immediately sour when Higgs stepped into the lift, largely because Max glanced at him just enough to take in the breadth of the shoulders and the scruff of beard before he looked away, deciding the stranger wasn’t worth his attention. Until, of course, the stranger whacked him across the shoulder with a stick.
“What the hell?” he demanded, thrusting his chest out. The words were drowned by a crackle of magic between them. He felt his arm pulled towards this ill-mannered stranger, tried to snatch it back and failed, apparently overwhelmed by superior strength. When he looked down and saw the way his arm had… well, he couldn’t look at it without feeling sick.
“You’re sorry?” Max asked. “What are you doing walking around with a dangerous magical artefact without some sort of security measure?”
--
Higgs wanted to argue that he hadn’t known the artifact was dangerous, but frankly, he really should have taken more security measures. The only excuse he had was that it had been a really long day on top of a really long week on top of a really long month. And that was hardly an excuse. “Yes, well,” Higgs offered with a shrug which then also made Max shrug and Higgs really would’ve found that hilarious if he hadn’t been attached to the other man.
Leaning forward, Higgs pressed the button for the atrium, since going to the storage units now was going to do him literally no good at all. “I’m not really sure what else to tell you,” Higgs added truthfully. “My levels of stupidity aren’t going to, you know--” The ‘you know’ was then effectively illustrated by Higgs raising his arm, which now also belonged to Max. It would’ve been fascinating if Higgs hadn’t been so fucking tired of shit just happening. Even if he was definitely the cause of this one.
“We probably need to go to St Mungo’s,” Higgs stated the obvious, before glancing at Max. “I don’t suppose you’ll let me stop for coffee on the way?” Probably not. Worth a go.
--
Max closed his eyes and barely managed to repress a shudder when Higgs’ shrug moved his own shoulder. He felt as if his arm were where it should be, under his own control, but whenever Higgs moved Max couldn’t stop his own body from following. At the idea of walking through the Ministry to get to St Mungo’s like this he almost physically recoiled, which just dragged Higgs’ more into his personal space than he’d already been, which helped not at all.
“Obviously,” Max said, through gritted teeth. “Artefacts Accidents.” If they were lucky, they’d get Siobhan. If they weren’t, they’d get one of Siobhan’s colleagues who recognised him and then this would be department gossip for weeks. Not to mention Ministry gossip, which meant it could get back to Maximilian. The lift chimed to alert them to the fact they were at the atrium and Max stiffly followed Higgs out of the lift, chin up and willfully disregarding the people who turned to look at them. (If, indeed, there were any. Max was Not Looking so hard he couldn’t actually tell.)
“Who are you, anyway?” Max asked. He still hadn’t taken a good look at Higgs, but he had every intention of writing to the man’s superior to make sure his stupidity was marked somewhere.
--
It both did and did not surprise Higgs, the way Max’s body stiffened when they exited the lift. Higgs also didn’t miss the way Max’s head went up, a determined stride that mostly seemed to be directed at acting like nothing was wrong. If anything, Higgs felt it was probably a lot more noticeable because Max was acting like it wasn’t. Especially when every so often Higgs had to pull him towards himself to avoid walking into people (who really didn’t seem to be paying any attention to the two of them at all).
The question made Higgs almost pause (which he didn’t because frankly it probably would’ve just jerked Max to a halt and that would get them much more attention). He had recognised Max but Higgs didn’t think it was particularly odd that Max hadn’t recognised him. For one, Higgs looked a lot different from the slim boy he’d been in school. For another, they hadn’t seen each other in years. Max, though, Higgs didn’t feel had changed a lot. He’d filled out more (nicely, Higgs had to give him that) but the way he carried himself, whilst with more confidence now, didn’t appear all that dissimilar from how he’d been in school.
“Higgs,” he offered. “Terence. Was a year above you in Slytherin, played Quidditch together,” he added, opting to not presume that his name alone would jog Max’s memory. They hadn’t been friends back in school, hardly, but in a way, Higgs assumed that, too, was perfectly memorable, even if his face evidently was not.
--
Max did stop, jerking Higgs to a halt just as he’d predicted he might do. He turned to stare into Higgs’ face, as if expecting this to be some cruel prank. Of all the people in all of wizarding Britain that Max could get magically stuck to, Higgs might just be last on the list. He was worse, even, than Oliver Wood who was at least almost obnoxiously inofensive. And stupid. Max had dismissed Higgs as stupid in school, at least until he’d made some outrageous and insulting insinuations about Max’s friendship with quidditch captain Marcus Flint. (Friendship was perhaps too strong a word for someone who had barely seemed to notice Max existed, but Max pushed that thought aside.)
“What the hell are you doing here?” Max asked, too loudly. He could see, if he looked, the resemblance in Higgs face to the boy he remembered, but he would never have made the connection without help. With a huff, he turned away and forced them both back into a walk. Higgs, Max had heard, had barely graduated, what the hell was he doing in the Ministry? Hadn’t he gone off to die in a pointless muggle war?
--
The sudden stop jerked Higgs’ body and he gave a sigh. This really was quite inconvenient. Unlike Max, though, Higgs imagined that there were a multitude of people he’d be less happy to be stuck to, not that Higgs particularly was enjoying being stuck to Max either. Still, it was hardly as if Higgs had anyone but himself to blame. The question made him raise an eyebrow at Max, because the confusion of Higgs’ being in the Ministry sounded so genuine. Higgs had no idea what Max knew about him post-school, but clearly the rumours of Higgs’ return and messy marriage had not made it to wherever Max was.
“I’m a hitwizard,” Higgs replied, presumably that answered why he was there, and probably also why he was carrying magical artefacts around, albeit however unsafely. He did tilt his head slightly as he looked at Max, properly looked at Max. “And you became a lawyer, did you?” He asked unsure where he knew that from, but sure that they must’ve at least shared some of the same social circles, they had, after all, been only a year apart in school. “I imagine that suits you quite well,” Higgs added. Back in school, Max had always struck Higgs as a liar. The years of experience with people had greatly changed the way Higgs dealt with that kind of behaviour, but he did remember not being the most pleasant to Max about it back then. He’d say he regretted it, but really, he doubted it mattered to either of them all that much.
--
Max had to reluctantly (and silently) concede that hitwizard made a certain degree of sense. It didn’t fill him with confidence in the hitwizard department, though. “Yes,” Max agreed. “Intellectual Property in a private firm.” If he’d worked primarily with the wizengamot, he imagined he’d have run into Higgs before now. Blessedly, he didn’t have to come to the Ministry all that often. “I enjoy it.” Which was true, but the stiffness with which Max said it might well have convinced a listener otherwise. Max had never considered any other profession - the only decision he’d had to make had been what type of law he would practice, and he was satisfied with his choice. His father hadn’t much cared, but now that Max had been practicing long enough, he was starting to mutter about what an excellent judge Max would make.
Their conversation, sparse as it was, had carried them to the atrium and Max directed them towards the floo with the shortest line - in the middle of the day, fortunately, there weren’t too many people needing to get out. “The fireplace is large enough to take us both,” he said, though he wasn’t as confident as he sounded. He’d never flooed with another person. Would a double handful of floo powder be enough? Did they both need to say where they wanted to go?
--
Higgs understood what intellectual property meant but that was about as far as his knowledge reached. Mostly, he presumed it was a good thing that Max wasn’t in a position to defend criminals, since Higgs had no doubt he’d be very good at getting them off. The fact that Max enjoyed his job wasn’t surprising, though Higgs did imagine that even if he utterly hated it, Max would still claim to enjoy it. Especially when his claim of such enjoyment seemed more of an automatic response than a genuine comment. Higgs didn’t feel a great deal of need to question it.
“Sidealong flooing will be fine,” Higgs assured him as they neared the floos. Due to the nature of his job, Higgs actually floo-ed with other people a lot. Not needing to restrain Max in order to get him through a floo made a nice difference from Higgs’ usual need to floo with criminals. Grabbing a handful of floo powder, Higgs led them into a floo. “Just stand still,” he told Max. “Wouldn’t want to lose your pretty head,” he added before throwing the powder down and flooing them to St Mungo’s. Upon arrival, Higgs was pleased to discover that all their body parts, shared or otherwise, were still intact.
Once they’d dusted themselves off, Higgs led them up to reception, giving the girl behind it a smile. “Artifact accidents?” He offered raising the arm he currently shared with Max. The girl, leaning across the table glanced at it and then gave a small shrug. “It’ll be a wait,” she offered apologetically. Higgs wasn’t exactly surprised, the place seemed rather busy and this wasn’t a life or death kind of situation (probably).
“That’s alright,” Higgs offered kindly. “We’ll take a seat, yeah?” He told the girl as she handed over some forms for them to fill. “Do you think there’s any chance of a cup of coffee?” Higgs asked giving the girl his best smile to which she promptly blushed and then gave a small nod. “Thanks, love,” Higgs added with a grin before leaning himself and Max over to one of the seats in the corner, out of most people’s way.
Looking down at the forms, Higgs frowned. “You’re going to have to fill this,” he said turning slightly to Max, handing the form over to him. “My right hand is somewhat out of action,” Higgs commented glancing down at their shared arm. He doubted attempting to write with it would be particularly comfortable for either of them.
--
Max was extremely tempted, when the girl behind the reception desk told them they would have to wait, to demand to be allowed to see Siobhan. She could fix them quickly, and privately, and Max would be out of there and back to work before too many people saw them. The only thing that stopped him was thinking how that might reflect on Siobhan, who was still relatively newly qualified. He didn’t look happy about it, but he did take his seat when Higgs maneuvered them in that direction.
“I’m sure you can find someone to fetch you a dictaquill,” he said as Higgs tried to push the paperwork into his lap. “You really shouldn’t let anyone other than your next of kin or your medical representative fill our sensitive paperwork.” Max struggled even to fill out his own form, since he had no left-hand to brace the paper and his pen (which had, fortunately, been in his right inside pocket) was inclined to skid over the parchment. He was eventually forced to make use of their shared arm, pining the form in place with the very least contact with his (their?) fingertips. Even so, the sight made him want to close his eyes and not open them for a very, very long time.
It didn’t take long before the receptionist, abandoning her post in a way Max considered quite unprofessional, sauntered over to present Higgs with a cup of coffee. There was no offer of one for Max, who would have declined it in any case.
--
“Well,” Higgs said slowly with a small frown. “I’m not going to owl my sister to come and do paperwork that you are perfectly capable of filling for me, Davies,” he explained as if talking to a small child. Mostly, Higgs was glad of the reminder that his next of kin was, in fact, Gemma. He’d changed it from being Alicia when they’d separated the first time around and then, thankfully, had not bothered to switch it back. As much as Higgs had no intention to owl Gemma, he was a lot less inclined to owl Alicia. Max, who evidently was perfectly capable of writing, would have to do.
When the receptionist arrived with Higgs’ coffee, he gave her a grateful smile. “Thank you so much,” he offered taking the mug from her carefully with his not-Max hand. “Busy today,” he commented looking around. “Must be a great deal of work,” Higgs added. “So thank you so much for this,” Higgs repeated with another smile which made the receptionist blush at him again.
“It’s not too bad,” the girl assured him almost shyly.
“Oh, I’m sure that’s not true. A very stressful job making sure all these people are happy,” Higgs assured. “Just make sure to look after yourself, too. Very important,” he told her with a grin and she gave a small laugh. “I’ll come and collect the forms from you in a bit,” the girl told him despite the fact that it was doubtfully her job and Higgs offered her another smile and a thanks and a compliment to her coffee making skills before she, still blushing, departed.
Turning back to Max, Higgs gave a sigh. “What do you need for the form? My name and address?” He had no idea if St Mungo’s required his NHS number. Higgs was sure he had a card somewhere.
--
Truthfully, Max would not have been very inclined to owl Roger either. His brother would probably find all this funny, an idea which made Max wrinkle his nose at the mere possibility. Of course, if he’d had his dominant hand incapacitated, he’d just have had Siobhan fill out the forms. She would be his emergency contact and next of kin, as soon as they were married.
Finishing up his own form quickly and efficiently, now that he’d allowed himself to use the hand he shared with Higgs, Max didn’t bother to repress a snort as the other man continued to flirt shamelessly with the receptionist. “Is that all you can think about?” he asked acidly as she walked away, still blushing. Higgs had managed to secure coffee for himself, and Max could almost admire that, but not when it involved putting himself in such an awkward situation of having to stand there (or sit here) and watch the two of them.
After a fumbling attempt to fold his own form, Max gave it up and merely turned it upside down on his lap before tugging Higgs’ out where he could hold it still. “Name, address, any medications you may be on and last GP appointment.” The last did have small print under it reading ‘optional’, but Max chose not to mention that. If Higgs hadn’t even bothered reading the form before he handed it over, it was his own fault.
--
Higgs gave a shake of his head when Max told him off for... well, Higgs wasn’t all that sure what he was being told off for. Flirting was hardly something Higgs felt he should be told off for. Especially one as innocent as this. “It’s pays to be nice to people, Davies,” Higgs advised because really, he had got a mug of coffee and an assurance that the receptionist would get their forms rather than make them get up and walk across the whole room to her when they were still attached together. If anything, it probably could’ve helped Max to be a touch nicer to people in the receptionist’s position. The fact that Higgs’ flirting so evidently made him uncomfortable did also work as small amusement.
“Right,” Higgs nodded when Max read out the form. “Terence Higgs-Spinnet,” he told Max. For now, all of the forms Higgs wrote still had to have his married name. It wasn’t something Higgs particularly looked forward to changing but it would certainly make paperwork easier. He proceeded to give Max his address to the house in Ireland he shared with Marcus. The question of medicine made Higgs pause. “Prazosin,” Higgs replied, almost glad that whilst he had discussed a multitude of other medication with his GP, for now he’d ended up with just something that would help him sleep. Higgs had been taking the pills for a week or so now and at least somewhat they were helping him sleep better. “And I last saw my GP two days ago,” he added finally.
--
Max knew that it paid to be nice to people - he was nice to people. He just didn’t flirt with people, because he had a fiancee and it wouldn’t be right or appropriate to flirt with other women. He raised an eyebrow when Higgs informed him of his new (to Max) surname, and wondered if Higgs’ wife would be quite as calm about the receptionist as Higgs was. He also wondered why on earth Higgs had taken her name, even if only as an addition to his own. Neither of these were things he intended to ask Higgs, so he just wrote the name and address in black letters.
Prazosin was not a word with which Max was familiar. He assumed it was a muggle drug, rather than a potion, because potions tended to have latinate or common English names, not strings of nonsense syllables. “P r a z o s i n?” he asked, to confirm the spelling. For all he knew there was a hidden e or h. He counted back two days from the current date and wrote that in while he was waiting for Higgs to confirm. Once he had, he turned his attention to the check-boxes. “Allergic to any of these?” he handed the form back to Higgs so he could read the options - a mix of muggle drugs and common potions ingredients. Presumably, nothing else was deemed relevant.
--
“Yeah,” Higgs nodded when Max spelled the word out. In comparison to some of the drugs Higgs had been on last summer and just after coming out of the hospital, prazosin was really an easy one to spell, even for Higgs. Max, Higgs imagined, wouldn’t have struggled with the more complex ones, too. He turned to look at the list, scanning it carefully to confirm what was and wasn’t on it. Back in the army this had been so much easier, because they just had everything on file. “I’m allergic to aspirin,” Higgs offered but none of the other things that were on the list he either was or knew himself to be allergic to.
When they’d exhausted everything that needed to go on the forms, Higgs leaned back into the char, bringing his coffee mug up to his lips to take a sip. It tasted too sweet but Higgs had no intention to complain. He really could use whatever coffee he could get. “I really am sorry,” Higgs offered turning his head to look at Max. “Are you going to sue me?” He asked presuming that Max very easily could. Probably. It seemed like the sort of accident people got sued over. Higgs was in half a mind to offer to cover Max’s wages for the day, but he wasn’t sure whether pointing out job-loss was the brightest of ideas right now.
--
Max took the form back, checked off the box for aspirin and then placed Higgs’ form face-down with his own. The receptionist looked rather busy dealing with an old woman with a cane, so he decided to wait before he attempted to return the forms to her. Presumably, their seeing someone was not dependent on getting the forms in. Unlike Higgs, he did not lean back but rather sat very upright in his chair, which meant that his arm had to list behind him like a piece of flotsam on the water in order to accommodate Higgs sprawl.
“No, of course I’m not,” he answered in some irritation. What would he even sue Higgs for? His medical treatment would be free, and his bosses would no more dock his pay for this than they would for if Max took a day off because he caught dragonpox. A case for emotional distress would be laughed out of the wizengamot. Not to mention, Max wasn’t feel distressed, merely annoyed and - sadly - no one had yet successfully sued for excess annoyance. “Are you going to be in trouble for losing your… stick?” Clearly, a magical artefact, but Max had no idea what to name it more specifically than that. “Was it valuable?”
--
From the way Max replied Higgs presumed it was unrealistic to get sued for this, which was good to know, even if Higgs did intend to never repeat this particular mistake again. At the question, Higgs gave a shrug and then a frown when that shrug went through their joint arm and made Max shrug, too. It probably would’ve helped if the other man sat back. “I don’t think so,” Higgs replied, not specifying to which question he was replying. The answer fit both, though.
“You’re very composed,” Higgs observed. In contrast to Max’s upright way of sitting, Higgs had his legs spread, back pressed against the chair. He looked relaxed, even if nothing much about this situation was relaxing. Max, on the other hand, looked like a very stiff stick had been shoved up his arse. “What do you do to relax, Davies?” Higgs asked tilting his head slightly. The other man was fit, so Higgs presumed he must’ve done at least a degree of physical activity. Not that Higgs could really presume what Max liked, he’d left the quidditch team pretty quickly, but that wasn’t necessarily an indication of an unwillingness to play sports.
--
Max might have preferred that the answer to both questions be ‘yes’, but he was not about to say so. He did shoot Higgs a small scowl when he made them both shrug. Max, always aware of his movements, had already adapted to moving their joined arm as little as possible - it seemed that Higgs wasn’t capable of that kind of consideration. The scowl faded when Higgs complemented his composure. “Thank you.” It was something Max prided himself on, his ability to remain cool under pressure. It wasn’t something that came up all that often in his life, but he liked to think he could handle almost anything that was thrown at him.
The follow-up question - if it could be called that when it didn’t bear any obvious relation to the remark that had preceded it - almost made him frown all over again. Max was used to people ‘making conversation’ to fill awkward downtime. He was even quite good at it, usually. “I read,” he said, unable to resist throwing that in when he knew Higgs hadn’t been a very devoted reader at school. “Exercise. I like rowing.” He mostly rowed alone now, which was very different to when he’d been on the Cambridge team. In some ways it was better, but in other ways he missed his university life. “My fiancée works here,” he added, gesturing around them to St Mungo’s. He stressed the last syllable just enough to be sure that Higgs would hear it - assuming he knew the difference between fiancé and fiancée in the first place, which Max honestly wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he didn’t. “Siobhan,” he added, just to be extra clear.
--
Higgs did a great job at not snorting when Max offered a thank you as if Higgs’ words had been a compliment. It did say more about Max than about Higgs, though. Being composed was a good thing, Higgs was hardly going to deny that, but Max, in Higgs’ opinion, was a touch too composed. But again, if the man wished to see that as a good thing, Higgs hardly felt it was his place to disagree.
“Of course you read,” Higgs nodded. Max had always been a smart kid in school, then again, in comparison to Higgs, a lot of kids had been. It had taken Higgs years to find pleasure in reading and even now he sometimes struggled. When he’d been deployed there had often been nothing else to do but read, but Higgs still rather preferred going and doing something to sitting still and engaging with a book. “Rowing,” Higgs repeated almost as if tasting the word out. He didn’t think he’d met many people who opted for rowing as their chosen sport. Higgs also very consciously decided not to point out how rowing, along with hunting, were probably the exactly kind of posh sports Max would be into. Their family standing, ironically, wasn’t actually too dissimilar. Not with Higgs’ dad being a judge. In fact, Higgs was quite sure their fathers were judges together. Small world.
At the mention of Siobhon, Higgs raised his eyebrow. “Vaisey?” He asked, not being able to think of any other Siobhan's he might’ve met in the magical world. “I’m friends with her cousins,” Higgs added. “Small world, I guess,” he added voicing his thoughts.
--
“I would be a terrible lawyer if I didn’t,” Max said. From him, it was almost a joke. He did spend a great deal of his working life reading, and he read books on law - in his own area and others - for much of his leisure time, as well as reading non-fiction that wasn’t about law and (very occasionally) fiction. He could have elaborated, perhaps stretched his comment out into an actual joke, but he just didn’t feel inclined to try with Higgs. Nothing in the world would compel him to seek out Higgs’ company after this, so attempting to socialise seemed like wasted effort. He glanced up, catching the receptionist’s eye. She still hadn’t come to collect their forms, but the expectant and unfriendly gaze Max treated her too obviously didn’t hurry her from her desk, because she turned to the next person waiting with a smile.
Turning his attention fully back to Higgs, Max nodded. “It’s good exercise.” He could have added that he liked sailing and cricket as well, which would only confirm Higgs already-accurate opinion of the kinds of sports he would prefer. “Yes,” he answered, surprised to learn Higgs considered himself friends with - Max assumed - the Flints. Max had been to a number of events with Siobhan, but hadn’t seen Higgs at any of them. Then again, he still had that vague idea that Higgs had gone away somewhere, so perhaps that explained that. “How long have you been a hitwizard?”
--
Higgs did smile when Max said he wouldn’t be a good lawyer if he didn’t read. Honestly, Higgs had a lot of admiration for people whose jobs were so reliant on book-knowledge. It wasn’t a job he could ever do, Higgs knew that. He had plenty of skills and knowledge, but books were not the places Higgs felt he had ever got it from. “No, I imagine it would make it a touch harder,” Higgs said jokingly, taking another sip of his coffee, already feeling much better with the caffeine slowly spreading through his body.
Rowing was a good exercise, Higgs was sure, it still didn’t make it any less posh. Personally, Higgs was more of a fan of running and the occasional boxing match, but he somehow could not picture Max being a man who liked to get punched, even for a sport. The hint of surprise in Max’s ‘yes’ did not escape Higgs. He did suppose that it was warranted, since he hadn’t been around for a great deal of events in Marcus and Pippa’s lives. It had never stopped him from being close to either of the older Flints, though.
The question surprised Higgs. Not in its content, but just at the fact that Max asked anything at all. So far Higgs had presumed that the other man wouldn’t even attempt to make conversation. Higgs wasn’t sure why he was, really. “I started in January,” he explained nonetheless. “I spent ten years in the military before,” he added. It was hardly a secret but Higgs couldn’t really fault Max for being unaware of the information.
--
Max nodded to acknowledge that practicing law without reading would, indeed, be harder. Also it would mean he had to listen to people more, and Max considered that he did quite enough of that already. One of the benefits of practicing in Intellectual Property was that clients rarely got overwhelmed with emotion. Max would have found family or criminal law much more trying in that regard. It was part of why he wasn’t sure he wanted to be a judge. (He wouldn’t say, even to himself, that he outright didn’t want to, he just hadn’t made a decision yet.)
“Right,” he said, nodding again. So he had remembered correctly, even if still didn’t know where he’d remembered from. Probably Siobhan or one of her cousins had mentioned Higgs going into the military - it was a career path that Max actually had to respect. “Do you miss it?” Ten years was a long time. Had it really been that long since they’d left school? Or almost that long, in Max’s case, since he was younger than Higgs. If Max had had a book in his briefcase, he might have resorted to reading rather than attempting to make conversation with Higgs, but he hadn’t. He had case notes, which he didn’t need to reread because he already knew what they contained.
--
The question made Higgs pause. Not because he didn’t know the answer but because he was almost surprised at Max asking after it. “Yes,” Higgs replied slowly, carefully, giving a small nod with his head. “I do miss it,” he admitted, but then before he could elaborate any further (not that he had intended to), the receptionist reappeared all smiles, telling him she’d come to collect the paperwork. Saved by the metaphorical bell, really, Higgs thought. Taking the papers from Max, Higgs carefully handed them over, before reaching out to brush his hand against the girl’s.
“Sorry, love, could I ask you a favour?” Higgs asked drawing the girl’s attention back to him from where she had been looking over the forms, she did smile looking back at him. “Max here,” Higgs said with a small nod towards Max. “He wouldn’t want to jump the queue or anything, so he didn’t say, but his fiance? She works here. Siobhan? Siobhan Vaisey?” Higgs said and the girl gave a nod. “Any chance you could let her know he’s here? I’m sure she’d want to know,” Higgs added in a tone that was almost borderline too kind, but the girl nodded nonetheless.
“Yes, of course,” she confirmed and then offered a smile to Max, but it didn’t quite match the ones she’d given Higgs. Then, when, with their forms, the girl left again, Higgs turned to raise an eyebrow at Max.
“It pays to be nice,” he repeated with a smirk.
--
Max concealed his dismay as Higgs continued to flaunt his flirtation with the receptionist, now apparently on Max’s behalf. If he expected Max to be grateful, he was not as good a judge of character as he believed himself to be. Max barely managed to return the receptionist’s smile, a fact she evidently noticed as she angled her body away from him and towards Higgs once she returned to her desk.
“That was unnecessary,” he said, refusing to engage with Higgs’ smirk. “I’m not in any immediate danger, Siobhan could just as well have found out this evening.” The question of whether Siobhan would prefer to know sooner was one Max didn’t feel he could answer, but not to know certainly wasn’t hurting her. It might mean she could arrange to see them herself, but Max wasn’t going to be grateful for that given Higgs’ methods.
Their previous conversation seemed hardly worth picking up, and Max couldn’t think of a single thing he and Higgs might have in common to talk about, so he let the silence stretch out until it was uncomfortably oppressive before he finally broke it. “The Falcons are playing well.” He assumed Higgs would be at least passingly familiar with their performance, since he and Marcus had always been better friends with each other than either of them were with Max.
--
Higgs was aware that they were in no immediate danger. That had hardly been the reason, though he did click his tongue when Max told him he could’ve just as well told Siobhan about what had happened this evening. “That’s not the point,” Higgs told him before glancing down at his watch. “I give it about five minutes before we’re seen,” he added. The thing was, Higgs might not know a great deal about how hospitals operated (though, probably enough, having spent plenty of time in them for a while) but he did know how civil service operated. Whether it be hospitals, the police or anything else, people did a great deal more when they were helping a family of a staff member. That was just how things worked.
Max’s comment regarding the Falcons made Higgs laugh. Not because they weren’t playing well (they were, between them and the Harpies, Higgs doubted anyone would overtake the leader board), but because it just seemed so trying. “How do you remember who you are, Davies?” Higgs asked him tilting his head slightly in Max’s direction, an amused smile playing on Higgs’ lips. “Must be terribly hard to fit into all of the socially acceptable boxes all at once,” he commented finishing off the last of his coffee and leaning forward to put the empty mug down on the coffee table.
--
It irritated Max beyond belief that Higgs should benefit from his connection to Siobhan, even if it did mean Max would benefit as well. He would rather have waited, especially as no one in the waiting room seemed to be particularly interested in what was, after all, a relatively low-key magical mishap. Choosing not to comment, because anything he could say would only let Higgs know he’d succeeded in annoying Max, Max was in the process of reaching for his case notes (he could pretend to read them) when Higgs asked an absurd question.
“What?” Max asked, before even his good breeding could catch him. He narrowed his eyes at Higgs as he ran over the words once more, trying to parse some meaning from them that hadn’t been immediately apparent. He failed, which only made him frown harder. “I’m Max Davies,” he said, completely non-plussed. “It’s never given me any trouble to remember that.” He was his father’s son, Roger’s brother, Siobhan’s husband-to-be. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said honestly. “It’s only polite to make conversation suited to one’s… companion.”
--
Higgs honestly didn’t doubt that when Max told him he had no idea what Higgs was talking about that he was being truthful. Especially because of the answer he’d given. Higgs nodded, giving a small smile to Max that by all means was severely unfitting to the conversation Higgs was having with him (because Max certainly wasn’t having it with Higgs). “Yeah, but who are you?” Higgs asked. “Everything about you, Max, is so very constructed,” Higgs told him nonchalantly. “It’s a miracle you don’t pull a muscle from how tight you hold yourself together,” he said genuinely giving Max a once-over as if expecting one of those muscles to suddenly snap (he didn’t, Higgs imagined that there was very, very little that could push Max over that imaginary line he’d evidently drawn somewhere for himself).
Leaning back into his chair, Higgs looked across the room. “Though,” he said watching as the Healers exchanged through the door that lead to the examination rooms. “I can’t really fault you,” Higgs added, only glancing at Max briefly with a small shake of his head. “Great deal about me is also very constructed, perhaps just in a slightly different way,” which Higgs felt was quite true. The reasons, though, that they had for controlling perception so much, Higgs presumed, were rather different.
“Siobhan,” Higgs called out with a wave of his (non-shared) hand when he spotted Max’s fiance emerging through the door.
--
Siobhan had been alerted to her fiance's presence in the ward and had dropped what she was doing to find out what trouble he'd gotten himself into. The A&A wasn't exactly a place you went if you were fine and dandy, after all, so she had a look bordering on horror when she went to find him. Once she realized that he had all of his limbs still attached and hadn't gotten any holes blown in any vital parts of his body, she relaxed and had a hard time not laughing at the fact that he'd somehow managed to get himself stuck to someone else. Surely there was a story.
"Oh my," she said, blinking a little once she was within earshot of the both of them and closing the distance. "What have you two gotten yourselves into?"
--
Max stood as Siobhan approached, which meant Higgs had to stand too, and their very different positions on the seats did mean Max wobbled comically off-balance for just a moment. In private, he would have greeted Siobhan with a hug or a kiss on the cheek. In public, he knew better and just gave her a pained smile. “Siobhan, this is Terence Higgs,” he said, making the formal introduction even though Higgs presumably couldn’t shake hands right now. “Apparently he knows your cousins.” Max didn’t stop to find out whether Siobhan and Higgs already knew, or knew of, one another. “Higgs is a hitwizard, at present, and was transporting a magical artefact.” Here he did pause, because he hadn’t bothered to find out more about the artefact, and didn’t know if Higgs had more information to offer.
Deciding Higgs could fill that in later, Max continued. “He was holding it and it came into contact with my shoulder and - well, you see the results before you, I’m afraid.” He had very consciously chosen not to accuse Higgs of hitting him with the artefact, though when he told Siobhan the full story later that word would certainly feature. “Do you know anything about what it was?” he asked Higgs. “Or where it was from?”
--
The incredibly dry introduction was almost hilarious to Higgs. He couldn’t imagine introducing anyone in such a manner, or even talking in such a manner, least of all to someone you were engaged to. Higgs gave a shake of his head in Max’s direction, before giving Siobhan a wide smile. “Yes, Marcus and Pippa,” Higgs said in case Siobhan had a great deal of other cousins, too. “We live together,” he added. Higgs was sure him and Siobhan recognised each other, but Higgs had hardly been around for the past ten years and they hadn’t really ever known each other past casual acquaintances even then.
“Oh, yes,” Higgs said when Max asked if he knew anything about the artefact. After a moment of somewhat awkward movement, due to their shared limb, Higgs pulled out a folded up sheet of paper, handing it over to Siobhan. “Here’s the paperwork for it,” he offered with another smile. Whilst Higgs did think they needed the help of a Healer, he doubted it would be a particularly difficult job. Per Siobhan’s instructions, Higgs and Max followed her through the door and to the examination rooms.
Once they were in one, Higgs sat up on the bed there, dragging Max with him. “So how long have you been a Healer, Siobhan?” Higgs asked curiously.
--
Siobhan was used to the way that Max greeted her both in private and in public. It was just his way. She didn't seem bothered by it and once they were in an examination room, she inspected the paper that she'd been given a little more closely. Higgs's question had her looking up at him and she shook her head. "Not terribly long," she admitted. "I've just finished my apprenticeship," she explained. "Bit of a career change," she smiled. "Not that I'm not qualified to assist you," she added. The last thing she wanted to appear as was unqualified.
--
“Of course you’re qualified,” Max said immediately, distracted from his attempt to sit as far from Higgs as the bed and their joined limb would allow by his need to defend Siobhan. “I’m sure Higgs didn’t mean to imply otherwise.” He didn’t quite glare at the back of Higgs’ head, but it was a close thing. “Do you think it will take long?” he asked, clipping the ‘love’ he would usually use off the end of his sentence for fear he would sound like Higgs flirting with his damned receptionist. This wasn’t a personal matter but rather a professional one, and he would behave as the model patient. He doubted he could say as much for Higgs.
Despite the temptation to read the paperwork Higgs handed over, Max kept his eyes firmly fixed on the wall of the examination room, where a cheerful witch in a bright blue cloak reminded him of the importance of not brewing your own healing potions. “Not to rush you,” he added, less stiff in his words as he addressed them exclusively to Siobhan, “but I should get back to work as soon as I can.” He didn’t fancy sitting around in St Mungo’s for half the day.
--
Higgs really hadn’t meant to imply that she wasn’t qualified. Hardly. Mostly he’d just attempted to make conversation, though the speed at which she had jumped to her own defense was rather indicative to him of how other patients might have treated her. He had to admit she looked young, but that really meant very little. “I’m sure you’re perfectly capable of returning our individual arms to us,” Higgs assured with a grin, before raising his eyebrow slightly at Max’s ‘not to rush you’ when it clearly was very much to rush her.
“At your earliest convenience, love,” Higgs told her kindly. Whilst he appreciated that Max had to get back to work, Higgs also recognised that so did she. “So magical artifacts, eh? That’s your specialty?” Higgs asked, presuming to be accurate since she was the one dealing with the mishap he’d gotten them into. “Must see a great thing of many things,” he commented looking around as if a magical artifact accident was suddenly going to jump at him (again).
--
Siobhan smiled at the both of them. "I'll do my best to get you both out of here as quickly and painlessly as possible." Luckily this wasn't the first sort of situation of its kind to come along. Siobhan doubted it would be the last. There would, of course, need to be a bit of preparation done, so she set to work in doing that, nodding at Higgs's question in the process.
"Oh, yes," she said. "Every day is a surprise. Honestly, every hour is a surprise." There were things that she had seen in the time she'd been doing her apprenticeship that she had never expected to see. Now that she'd gotten used to the surprises, she doubted anything would really surprise her now but then something even more strange and unexpected came along.
Going over the charts — well, Higgs's at least since she'd memorized Max's medications and history ages ago — she noticed that he was taking prazosin. She turned her attention on him again. "This says that you're prescribed prazosin. Do you take it for high blood pressure?" For needing to detach the two men, it was definitely pertinent to know what precautions she might need to take.
--
“Oh, I can imagine,” Higgs agreed when Siobhan explained how every hour could be a surprise. He was sure she wasn’t exaggerating either, A&E was busy no matter where you were, or whether you were magic or Muggle, even if Higgs did feel he had far more experience with the Muggle side of things. In a way, he also supposed that it wasn’t too dissimilar from the changing nature of his own job. A lot of taking things as they came your way. He’d been about to say as much when Siobhan asked after the medication Higgs was on.
As a Healer, Higgs was sure she probably knew that prazosin wasn’t only used for high blood pressure, but since it was its primary function, Higgs completely understood her question. Presumably, it would be rather worrisome to attempt to interfere with the artifacts magic if she wasn’t completely sure of his and Max’s medical conditions. “No,” he said when he realised the pause he left was almost too long. “I take it for--” And there Higgs gave another small pause, but only very briefly, barely noticeable at all. “I take it for sleep,” he finally settled on, sure that Siobhan would know that prazosin was used for anxiety or, and this was why Higgs took it, nightmares induced by PTSD. Still, her awareness didn’t quite make him want to say it out loud. Nothing ever really did.
--
Max knew that Siobhan was only doing her job, making conversation with Higgs because he had initiated it and it would be rude to ignore him. And because she was, generally speaking, simply better with people than Max was. She had far more friends, because she was genuinely interested in what was going on in their lives. Max was only interested in people he deemed important - either to him personally (Siobhan, Roger) or to the world at large. Higgs fell into neither category, and Max would really rather have talked to Siobhan properly - something he didn’t feel able to do with an audience.
He affected not to listen as Siobhan and Higgs discussed Higgs’ prescription. It was none of his business, and legally a Healer and patient ought to have assured confidentiality. That they were forced to have this discussion where Max could overhear it was an unfortunate twist of circumstance, and one Max considered himself above taking advantage of. Which didn’t mean he didn’t hear and retain the information. Max generally remembered details very well, so even if he had no use for the knowledge that Higgs had trouble sleeping, it would still be lodged in his brain for a good while.
“What’s the use of an artefact that sticks people together?” he asked, directing the question to the room at large, since both Higgs and Siobhan had read the paperwork. “What was its intended purpose?” Presumably not to stick strangers together and compel them to attend a healer.
--
Siobhan made note of Higgs's response. It wouldn't interfere with unsticking the two men if he was taking the medication for sleep. High blood pressure would have been more of a concern. Nothing else on the man's chart caused any worry for her, so she went about getting ready for the required procedure.
It was Max's question that made her smirk a little. She wondered if he would really want to know the truth of that. "Well, darling, it's supposed to be used in marriage ceremonies. Are you sure there isn't something you need to tell me?" she teased. "I had no idea you were into polyamory." She flashed them both a smile, then laughed softly and shook her head. "We'll get you two out of this in just a couple of minutes," she promised.
--
Higgs had sort of read the paperwork for the artefact, not that he was going to admit that particular point in front of Max when he already had experienced the level of which Higgs had mishandled the bloody thing, but of what he had read, Higgs did know it was something used in a marriage ritual. Then, when Siobhan explained, adding a question of whether Max wanted to tell her something, Higgs snorted. He decided he liked Siobhan. Certainly a lot more than he liked her fiance.
“Don't worry, sweetheart,” Higgs told her with a grin. “He’s all yours,” he added before looking down at their joint arm. “Well, as soon as you’re able to have him back, anyway,” Higgs assured giving Siobhan a wide smile. Higgs certainly had no great wish of prolonging his contact with Max any longer than absolutely necessary, even if the one saving grace to it was just how much Max clearly didn’t want to spend time with Higgs either.
--
“Marriage ceremonies?” Max asked, voice too loud and staring aghast at Siobhan. “But we’re -” He stopped, managing to collect himself, save for a scowl. He was more annoyed at himself for losing control than at the actual results, which really weren’t that bad. He knew Siobhan was only teasing him, but he wished she wouldn’t do so in front of Higgs. If possible his posture became more stiff than it had been before. “Thank you,” he muttered. “I’m sure Higgs needs to be back at work as well.” To report his idiotic loss of a precious (Max hoped) magical artefact.
If they could have just moved on from the joke, pretended it hadn’t happened, everything would have been fine. Of course - of course - Higgs wasn’t the type to sense what would be most comfortable to his companions and instead insisted on continuing his own agenda of sickening flirtation. “She’s not your sweetheart,” he said quietly to Higgs, “and I think we’d all be glad if you could remember it.” Siobhan couldn’t be rude to a patient, but there was no prohibition on Max saying something if that patient got out of line. It was easily the most possessive display Max had ever allowed himself. He’d never had a problem with Siobhan having male friends, or even with her dancing ballet with barely-dressed male dancers. (Max much preferred the scenes with all women, which he supposed was natural for a heterosexual male.)
--
There was a greatly large amount of things Higgs was terrible at. Neither of those things were reading people or flirting. If anything, he was perhaps somewhat just puzzled at Max’s reaction, not because it had been unpredictable but because of just how predictable Higgs should’ve expected it to be. The inability to take a joke had certainly been something Higgs remembered about Max from school, perhaps it had been foolish for him to expect for the years since to have changed that. Then again, Max did have a fiance so evidently he ought to have been doing something right.
“Worry not, darling, you can have all the endearments, too,” Higgs told Max before realising that that really had not been what Higgs had originally intended to say. Mostly, he had planned to offer an apology to Siobhan in case she was offended at his use of endearments (which mostly came naturally rather than patronisingly) and then perhaps point out to Max that engaged or not, Siobhan was hardly his property to rule over. Instead he’d ended up equally dividing his flirting between the two of them. Well, that was something, he supposed.
--
Siobhan had intended to lighten the mood a little with her teasing, but the way Max responded showed her that she'd helped to wind him up even more tightly than he was usually wound. She sighed. "Max, love, it's really quite alright," she said, deciding it was probably best if she separated the two of them as fast as she possibly could. Especially when Higgs called Max darling. She was almost worried that Max's eyes would fall out of his head at that.
"All the terms of endearment any of us can stand," she said, readying herself for the separation. Luckily it didn't take all that long. A few minutes and some patience, and she managed to unstick the two men from one another. Checking Higgs's now separated arm, she nodded. "Everything seems to be in order," she said. "Does it feel odd? Any tingling or burning sensations?" She moved onto Max's arm while Higgs responded, checking for any signs of an issue with her fiance's limb.
--
Siobhan stepped in to respond to Higgs’ comment before Max had resorted to sputtering wordlessly at him. “That,” he said, when he’d collected himself enough to say anything at all, “is not what I meant.” It was very important to make that clear, even though Max thought it should have been more than clear already. “I would rather you kept any endearments to the proper people, whoever they might be.” If, indeed, there were any. Max had no idea whether or not Higgs was in a relationship, though he assumed from the constant, indiscriminate flirting that he couldn’t be.
When she’d been employed as a dancer, Max had been able to watch Siobhan work with some regularity. He’d attended as many of her performances as was reasonably possible, and had always enjoyed singling her out to watch. Now that she worked at St Mungo’s, he hadn’t had the chance to watch her. It almost surprised him that the expression on her face was similar - the same intense focus that somehow seemed to relax her rather than making her tense up. He was so absorbed in watching her that the physical relief of not being attached to Higgs caught him by surprise.
“Much better,” he told Siobhan while he forced himself to remain still as she examined him. The touch was hardly intimate, but he still had to remind himself that it was not something that needed to be hidden. Higgs evidently agreed, or at least he shook his head no to Siobhan’s questions.
--
Oh, Higgs was rather aware that that had not, in fact, been at all what Max had meant. Though, to be fair, whilst it might not have been what Higgs had intended to say originally, Max’s response certainly made it worth having been said. Higgs had met plenty of men who weren’t terribly keen on other men complimenting them, not to mention using endearments towards them, and really, it never got any less satisfying to challenge that by not really doing very much. So if anything, Max’s reaction almost definitely ensured that Higgs would do it again.
He did shake his head when Siobhan ask if there was any discomfort, because there wasn’t. Moving his arm quite happily, Higgs offered a thank you, since despite her just doing her job, Higgs did believe she rather deserved the thanks. “You’re excellent,” he assured Siobhan standing up from the bed, giving another look at his arm, which now was only his. “How about I invite you and Max for a dinner at some point next week?” He offered. “As a thank you,” Higgs specified. “An apology to Max for getting him into this mess and a thank you to you,” he added with a smile. Siobhan, Higgs was sure, he would get along with great and Max... well, Max would probably not want to, which really made it so much more worth it.
--
With the assurance that his arm didn't feel any worse for the wear, Siobhan's attention went to Max for the same sort of question. If he felt odd, he would say so. She doubted that his reaction would be much different than Higgs, but there was the chance that the results would be different and that was still worth a check. "And you, Sweetheart?"
Higgs's offer for dinner had her turning her eyes back to him. "That's very kind of you, Mr. Higgs," she said, the words feeling odd because adding a 'Mr.' on just felt so formal and he was friendly with her cousins. Still, she was doing her best to be a proper working lady, of course. "I would love to. What do you say, Max?"
--
There were entirely too many endearments being used in this conversation for Max’s liking - and, on top of that, too many of the same ones. He did not want to be called sweetheart, or darling, or love, or anything else Higgs could dream up, not even by Siobhan. Instead of saying so, he flexed his fingers and made sure his hand and arm functioned as he would expect them to. “Perfect, thank you,” he said crisply. He glared at Higgs, hoping he’d take the hint and leave so that Max could have at least a few moments of privacy with Siobhan before they both had to return to work.
What Higgs did instead, was invite them to dinner. And right as Max was about to say he couldn’t possibly, because he was very busy all next week, Siobhan accepted. Max was hardly about to let her have dinner with Higgs alone - who knew what kinds of outrageous things he might say to her? - so he had to call up his best ‘unpleasant client’ smile and nod. “Yes,” he pretended to agree. “Very generous. If we can find a free evening, I’m sure we’d be happy to accept.”
--
“Excellent,” Higgs confirmed with a wide smile. He had no doubt that the last thing Max Davies wanted to do was have dinner with him, even before the whole ‘oops magical accident’ thing had happened. But frankly, Max, bless him, brought it upon himself for being far too easy to irk. If anything, Higgs thought that perhaps it’d be good for him to attempt a human-like conversation. That and Higgs was rather curious what his relationship with Siobhan was like. Much behind closed doors, Higgs did gather as much, but he’d be blind not to notice that there was affection between them. Perhaps one that just needed a more private setting.
With that thought, Higgs offered Siobhan another smile (because at least she deserved them). “I’ll owl you the details,” he promised. “Thank you again, Siobhan, you’re a godsend,” he added, before offering his goodbyes to both of them, with one last apology to Max about the whole thing and then apparating away.