Who: Dexter Cadwallader and Euan Abercrombie Where: Dexter's office When: Backdated, 5 May What: Submitting pictures and a bit of friction Rating: PG Status: Closed; complete
Dexter leaned on his desk, fingers steepled as he studied the documents in front of him. He had to finish putting together a press packet to send to the Daily Prophet by the end of the day and it was practically complete. He had just finished dictating his last official report on the issue, a case of what the public supposed to be grindylows attack actually turning out to be a jealous mermaid lover, drowning the girlfriend of the man she loved.
He'd wanted fresh shots of the scene, with the new signs stating there were no grindylows in the popular law the drowning had taken place in, as well as shots of the stream the mermaid had someone made her way from her normal cove to get there, the cove itself, and one of the grieving boyfriend. He wanted to be able to show the full picture, in a way that couldn't be distorted, and therefore wanted the after pictures as well as a few of the case photos that could be released: the picture of the girlfriend and her boyfriend together, the picture of the crime scene, and one of the scales that had been found scraped on one of the rocks in that stream.
He rearranged the documents, putting his personal report on top of the modified case report, certain information removed according to department protocol, but all the necessary information there before fixing up the few photos he did have. Now he was just waiting on the new photos to arrive.
Euan whistled under his breath as he navigated his slow way through the Department building, stopping a few times to talk with people he knew - specifically Everrett. He'd been worried about Ara and hadn't seen her since Italy. Apparently everything between the siblings was now okay, or at least that was what Everrett told him. The other boy was quite a hard book to read at the best of times, but at least he'd talked.
He carried the newly printed photographs in a brown envelope under his arm, jogging up the stairs toward the PR office and pausing outside of the door to catch his breath and tug on the hem of his t-shirt. He knocked once before entering, not even bothering to ask if it was okay to.
"Grindylow case," he said, after the envelope landed on top of Dexter's desk and knocked a pot of quills over. "No scales. MLE boys wouldn't let me through."
Dexter's lips curved into a frown as he righted the quills, giving the other man a sharp look before pulling the envelope closer
"What do you mean they wouldn't let you through? You were supposed to get a pass to be allowed in. I need those pictures for this story."
He sighed heavily, not even bothering to look at the pictures yet. "What did you get then? Everything else I asked for?"
Euan shrugged, looking around the office for a free chair and pulling it up toward the other side of Dexter's desk. He sat down and drummed his fingers against the wood, looking down as Dexter spread out the photographs. "They wouldn't even look at my pass. Something about needing to research some more evidence." All of the pictures were spread out except for the one of the man and the woman together. "And I can't get one of the couple. Get your researchers to do that, it's not my job."
"I'd rather you didn't do that," Dexter said shortly, just barely glancing at the man's drumming fingers as he looked over the photographs. Most of what he wanted was there, but the problem was that not all of it was. "And bollocks to them with their need of more evidence. I was told, without question, that this was going to be the official report. I swear to god that if they've changed that without telling me, I'll have their bloody jobs." He'd already cleared a patch in the pictures, pulling out parchment and beginning to write what looked like a letter. "And I asked you to get the photo because that's what you do. I do my own research, I hardly trust it in the hands of others." And this may just be proof of why.
Euan lifted his hands from the desk with raised eyebrows and sat back, folding his arms over his chest. The rest of his body language was, however, very relaxed. "Listen, mate, I don't go collecting photographs, I only take them. You need researchers and journalists to go digging around for family pictures, not me. I don't get paid enough."
"Next time maybe you could owl beforehand to let someone know that," Dexter said, quill moving in quick agitated strokes across the parchment, the sounds as harsh as the practically bare interior of his office. "It's a hell of a thing to find out the day I promised this would be there." Folding the letter, he put it in an envelope and sealed it before sending the letter whizzing out the door, heading the direction of the owlry. Then his attention turned back to the photographs, shuffling through them, reordering them as he tried to think through the dilemma.
"Chill," Euan said, hands in the air again. "It's not my obligation to owl that kind of information - it's all on file. Or it should be. And what kind of freelance photographer goes around looking for old pieces of evidence? It's not in the job title, man. You should know that."
"What I know is that I should clearly never leave it to a secretary to handle sending out the owls I need." Dexter frowned, not glancing up at Euan as he straightened the pile and set it aside. He took out another sheet of parchment, writing something else this time. "And it's not a piece of evidence, it's just good for any story they want to run. And in my experience, sending incomplete items to the Prophet leads to people like Skeeter twisting the story. So do not tell me to chill, especially in my own office."
Euan studied the other man for a long moment. "And don't tell me that I should be doing someone else's job, or blame your secretary's mistakes on me. So yeah, I think I will tell you to chill." He was steadily getting more and more annoyed with the other man, and it showed in his tone and expression. "Look, I've given you what I have. I won't bother wasting any more of your time." He pushed himself out of his chair and stood, heading for the door.
"For god's sake, I'm not. That secretary is lucky if she still has her job, she should have got the picture herself." Dexter huffed slightly, pausing in his writing of a quick memo. "Listen, thank you. What you do have is great. Though those MLE bastards are pricks for not letting you in like they should have."
Euan fixed Dexter with an easy glance and pulled his sunglasses off of the front of his shirt, fiddling with the legs. "I think that's a bit harsh, but given the circumstances I might agree with you." He offered the other man a sharp wave of his hand and a tight smile before exiting the office - a drink was in order. Perhaps something with a little bit of caffeine in it.