Clint grinned and kissed her again, feeling oddly lighthearted. What had turned out to be an odd evening that he thought was going to end in an argument turned into something much better. Time with Lexi. Alone time with Lexi. His eyes turned serious for a moment before he smiled and kissed her again. It was hard to get enough of that. He thought about it a lot. About her a lot. She probably didn't realize it but he did. He might not know quite how to show it but his feelings for Lexi Montgomery had always been strong. Too strong. It's part of the reason he'd spent two years in Spain and part of the reason he'd avoided anything having to do with her and her ex.
"Tapas," he said, with a grin, knowing they'd have to venture into Muggle London for that. "Croquetas y patatas bravas, mi amor." He kissed her agains and disapperated them to a nearby alley of his favorite muggle spanish restaurant. "What do you want beautiful?"
*#$*#$*#
Katie sighed and glanced at her arm. It was like a thousand knives cutting into her and she knew it was deep as the glass she'd pulled out had been about three inches long. It was clearly not going to stop and she was starting to get a headache. Her bandage was soaked. She shivered, not sure if it was the giant gash or the cold at this point. Her body sort of felt like it'd gone into a bit of shock. It was nothing new but she knew not really noticing the cold anymore was probably a bad sign. The fact that Marcus knew her well enough to appeal to her love for Quidditch and that he knew that's how he could reason with her should've been unsettling.
Instead, she looked at his hand and met his gaze. "If we turn up at St. Mungo's looking like this... it's going to cause even more talk," she said, wincing as she braced her elbow in her free hand. Glancing down at herself, she shrugged. "I hate the hospital and showing up like this..." Her hair was all over the place and she had blood on her dress. "I'm sorry you hurt your hand..." she said, noticing the swelling. She never would've ever expected them to be on the same side of a fight. Ever. She moved the ice off his hand, fingers brushing very lightly over the swelling. It was possible there was something broken in that mess.
"Come on," she said, with a sigh, feeling slightly sick to her stomach. "We should get this looked at."
*#*#*
Emma turned her head and looked at him, comforted by his reassuring words. "I suppose you're right," she murmured, leaning forward and brushing her lips lightly to his. "It's just so frustrating. I've put my neck out for all of them and I just... wanted some respect, I guess." That's what it boiled down too. Marcus didn't respect her or the job that she was hired to do. Her neck was on the line and she didn't want to lose her job because of Marcus Flint.
"I don't know," she said, with a shrug, turning back to stare at the ceiling. "I was hired to clean up the messes and make them look better but he doesn't care about that and if I don't..." She shook her head. She didn't really want to admit that her job would be on the line. Not to him. "Nevermind." She glanced at him, studying his face.
"Are you alright?" she asked, concern clouding her features. "Your nose feels better?"