John Dawlish (dawlishly) wrote in thebreach, @ 2010-09-10 13:48:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! log, [1980-09] september, benjy fenwick, john dawlish |
Log: John and Benjy
Who: John Dawlish, Benjy Fenwick
When: 10 September 1980
Where: The Three Broomsticks.
What: John, Benjy and a basket of chips.
Rating: PG
Status: Complete
John entered The Three Broomsticks and looked around briefly. Not much had gone on today, though he was tracking down a few purchases of Harkonnen’s. It was slow going since he had paid with galleons and by owl, but he was fairly certain the fingerprints retrieved from the orders would pan out to be Harkonnen’s. Not that it made much difference, since they knew he had the flat and planned to move to America, but having the name of the individual at the travel agency who booked him the ‘tour’ of America might narrow down who had known he was going. Or so John hoped. With no body, it was difficult to discover the particulars about who had last seen him. Striding in, he got himself a pint and took a seat in the back, giving a friendly nod to Rosmerta as he went. Booking the travel through the agency was something John hadn’t expected, but it wasn’t a bad idea. Harkonnen had needed the travel visa, and once there, he could claim asylum with the American Ministry. Few would expect that he would book in with a group - they’d be looking for individual sales of individual trips, not someone going on holiday. It hadn’t been enough, obviously, but it had been crafty of him. It did beggar the question of who had found out he was going, however, unless their timing was just that good. Taking a sip of his beer, John’s eyes went to the door as it opened and he waved a hand to get Benjy’s attention. Benjy needed a night out; he had been cooped inside his office and apartment long enough. Work had been piling, but that was nothing out of the ordinary, and he was used to it. But that didn’t mean he didn’t need a break. And at least he would be able to stop thinking about Emmeline’s lunch with Avery. It didn’t help that he had to sift through a pile of complaints about the Minister earlier that day. Merlin, he hated evaluation days, especially when people expected him to brainstorm with ideas to boost her popularity again. He almost wanted to tell her that if she wanted to regain the public’s trust, she would have to actually be more decisive. But it wasn’t as if no one had not yet told her that. She should know, based on the complaints. He was still thinking about it when he arrived at the Three Broomsticks; it was a relief to be able to get away from Diagon Alley, even though he was a frequent visitor of the Leaky Cauldron. A change of scenery never hurt anyone, and it wasn’t as if he was drinking with an unfamiliar person. He saw John waving his hand and made his way towards his friend. “Hey,” he sat down before ordering his drink from Rosmerta, who was quick enough to take his order. “Good day at work?” he smirked; it wasn’t a question that needed a specific answer -- he knew Aurors and their constant pressure to run around and be competent. John rolled his eyes. “If you call feeling as if I’m being buried alive with paperwork and the inability of people to remember things a good day, then yes, I am,” he said, an easy smile on his lips just the same. “Still on a case from the summer - Harkonnen disappearance. Making progress but nothing concrete yet.” He took a sip of his beer, trying to take the taste of disappointment out of his mouth, though that didn’t work well. He had hoped to have the case wrapped by now, but without a body, it was difficult. “Yourself? You look like you’ve been working hard - either that or hardly working.” Benjy raised his eyebrows slightly, surprised that there was still nothing concrete about the Harkonnen disappearance, even though they had been working on it for the last couple of months. He was tempted to make a dry remark about the competency of Aurors, but he decided against it; he knew the frustration that came with not knowing anything. “They should give you less paperwork,” he took a sip of his beer. And another. “More things would get done that way.” He smiled wryly. “The usual,” he leaned against his seat. “We’ve been giving as much support to the Minister as we can,” was his vague answer to John’s question. He sounded halfhearted even as he said it, he wondered if it had something to do with his overall mood. “Indeed. I’m all for less paperwork,” John said emphatically. “Especially since there are too many people who can’t be bothered to fill it out correctly, which makes my job all the harder - though I’m sure you know how that goes. Don’t know if having less paperwork would make it easier to close the case, though - rather hard to without any definitive answers to the main questions. I’m hopeful, though.” He raised a brow at Benjy’s rather lackluster response, though he didn’t comment on it. He wasn’t in a high enough pay grade to know all that, probably. “That’s all she can ask,” he said. Cocking his head, he sipped his beer. “Enough talk about work, I think. Tell me your plans this weekend.” Benjy was concentrating hard on what John was saying, even though the expression on his face most likely reflected otherwise. He wondered if Moody, Alice or Frank were keeping track on how the case was going, if they had any new leads that were only privy to them. It wasn’t his area of specialization in the Order, but he couldn’t help but be curious, considering all the talk in the Ministry about it before. But truth to be told, he was slightly relieved at the subject change, especially when he didn’t favour talking about his work outside of the Ministry. “Why, Dawlish? Surprised that I’d actually be outside during a weekend?” he chuckled. It was common knowledge that he hardly went anywhere during weekends except to visit his relatives and be ruthlessly attacked by his little nieces and nephews. John smirked and shrugged. “I wasn’t at all sure that you had anything else on your agenda other than letting your nieces and nephews torment you,” he said, wondering just then just how much he’d let Agatha do to him if she asked. “Are your plans something different this time then?” He wasn’t one to talk, especially recently, but he wasn’t above taking the piss when the occasion warranted it. And it seemed like it did. “It is,” he responded, and his thoughts went towards Emmeline and the conversation they had over their journals. Benjy was used to feeling worried the people he cared about -- it was a given, considering what was going on around them -- but he couldn’t remember feeling this worried about someone. She’d told him that she wanted to draft a law against discrimination, and then only a little while later she decided that she was going to meet up with a Purist who apparently wanted to ‘educate’ her. And he couldn’t say anything against it, because he was doing the same thing in taking risks by sticking to his job and still being in the Order. He watched John for a few seconds, sipping on his drink. If he didn’t keep his guard up, his own neighbour would end up arresting him. “What about you, mate?” he made the subject revolve around John this time. “How’s that girl you’re dating?” John’s eyes narrowed a bit at the cagey and brief response. Didn’t want to talk about it yet, did he? Well, John would let him drink a bit more and then ask again. He raised a hand and mouthed the words ‘basket of chips’ once he caught Rosmerta’s eye. Food never hurt either, he knew, and he was a bit peckish. Pulling a face, John shrugged. “I’ve got no plans for the weekend beyond work and cleaning my flat. And I’m not sure how Marlene is doing, as we are no longer dating,” he said, lips twisting a bit as he fought a sigh. They had only gone out a handful of times, but he’d rather liked having things to do and she was a lovely woman to boot. Benjy, who had spent the last couple of weeks working, trying to figure out more ways to help the Order, and going out with Emmeline, had not really keeping up with his friends’ social lives (he had to work on that), and so his ears perked up. He hadn’t heard of that, not even from Marlene. Then again, she didn’t really have a reason to talk to him about those things, and Benjy wasn’t one to nose into other Order members’ dating lives. He was reminded, though, that at some point of his life he should be cleaning his flat as well, as it was starting to get rather cluttered. “You don’t look too happy about it,” he observed, before ordering another pint of beer. John shrugged. “Wasn’t my choice, but I can hardly fault her for not being ready to date, can I?” he said, hiding behind a long pull from his pint while he figured out what to say. “She’s a lovely witch and I enjoyed seeing her. Not much I can do to change her mind, though.” Besides, he was still smarting, a bit, from the rejection of his attempt at a kiss. He didn’t think he had a big ego, but that had neatly punctured what ego he did have. “Ah well. It wasn’t meant to be, I suppose.” He tried to look philosophical about it. “And you? Seeing anyone?” John had a good point; there was no use forcing a woman to date when she wasn’t ready, or uninterested. That wasn’t the case for Benjy, but he managed to throw his friend a sympathetic look. “Not the end of the world either,” he added to John’s remark to lighten up the mood a bit. “There are other women.” There was a long pause after John’s question. He stared down at his drink as if they held the answers to the mysteries of life (except it didn’t, obviously). “Maybe,” he set his tankard down. “Sort of.” The alcohol was starting to not make him as coherent as he would have been when he was sober. He knew he made the right decision, wanting to keep what was going on between them a secret for the time being, but at that moment he wasn’t sure he was too fond of the idea, as right as it had felt when he’d told her. Benjy wasn’t used to sharing his problems, especially not with John, whom he would usually (jokingly) make fun of. “I like her a lot,” he sighed. It was probably not something he would ever tell anyone if he had a clearer state of mind. “She does these things that make me worry about her, though.” He took another sip of his drink. “I’m not used to it.” Somewhere in an alternate universe, perhaps, his sober self would be laughing hysterically at this very scene. He scratched his cheek, chuckling a bit. “Now I sound like a Fifth Year.” John smirked, amused at how uncomfortable Benjy seemed with the idea of worrying about a woman. It was a position John was rather familiar with, considering the girls he had dated. Hell, he was still worrying about Bertha, and their relationship had ended ages ago. There were just some witches who made a bloke worry, for whatever reason. “You do,” he agreed before he took another sip of his beer. “But there’s nothing wrong with fancying a witch and worrying about her. Tell me why, though. Maybe I can help.” Truthfully he wasn’t at all sure he could, but he was terribly curious about the witch in question. The chips arrived then, shoved onto the table with a practiced hand as Rosmerta winked at them and bustled away. John reached for the vinegar and raised a brow at Benjy before he began pouring. Benjy laughed, though not unkindly; he was just tickled at how impossible it was for John to help him. “It would’ve been easier if I’d realised I liked her earlier,” he mused, holding up his drink and still staring at it, for a moment disregarding that John was there. It was as if he was pondering over his own thoughts and trying to make sense of himself. Then he came back to the present, and seemed more focused as he lifted his gaze to look at his friend. “D’you think the worrying would ever stop, Dawlish?” Watching Benjy over his pint, John was interested in the fact that Benjy seemed to be deep in thought. It must be a rather important girl, then. Setting down the vinegar bottle, he made sure the basket was between them before he took a chip. “Probably, but we’re men and aren’t as good at sussing that out, I think,” he said between bites. “Stop worrying? No. That means we’ve stopped caring, I think. There’s always something to worry on, even if it’s you’re afraid she’s going to twist an ankle getting out of the Floo or get lost or something.” He personally didn’t think he would have to worry about Emmeline twisting her ankle or getting lost, but he nodded sombrely at John’s remark. “She’s good at taking care of herself,” on the other hand, he didn’t think that what she had been doing (or planning to do) lately had been a good way of taking care of herself. “You’re an all right friend, Dawlish,” Benjy continued, and he would probably not remember (or deliberately not remember) what he was saying that night. “You should tell Marlene what you just said and she’d come running back to you,” he downed the rest of his drink. “Just who is this mystery woman, Fenwick? You can’t just leave me in the dark, you know, or I’ll try to find out on my own,” John warned, giving Benjy a long look. The girl in question had obviously made an impression on him. “Did you meet her at work?” Benjy’s suggestion made him snort and finish off his pint. He looked around for Rosmerta for another to get another. “Right. She ran away when I tried to kiss her. Don’t think my ego has quite recovered to try again. Nope, next move has to be hers.” There was no way, in a sober or tipsy state as he was at that moment, was he going to let John know that he was dating their neighbour. So he only gave his friend a mysterious smile and a small shrug. “She ran away?” the thought of Marlene literally running away from John was hilarious in his mind, and he restrained himself from laughing, but it was hard, and so he laughed anyway. “Sorry, mate. That sounds awful,” he wondered if Emmeline would run away if he tried to kiss her. Benjy raised his hand until Rosmerta noticed him. “Here, I’ll order another pint just for you.” “You’re issuing a challenge, you know,” John warned, already making mental notes of which steps to take. Picking up a chip, he chucked it at Benjy with a frown. “Oi, let’s not say that too loudly, will you? It wasn’t such a pleasant experience that I want the whole bloody tavern knowing,” he said, scowling a bit. “Hopefully when you try to kiss your girl, she won’t run away from you. What was her name again?” Perhaps it was John’s Auror reflexes, but the chip managed to hit Benjy squarely on his forehead. It fell down on the floor before he could catch it, but he didn’t look too bothered about it (nor did he seem to really notice). “That was a waste,” he said, before taking a handful from the basket of chips in front of him. For a moment he was caught off guard, and he opened his mouth to almost say Emmeline’s name, but he didn’t. “I’ll introduce her to you,” he paused as he chewed on his chips. “When the right time comes.” If it ever comes, he added silently to himself. John shook his head, stifling a sigh. He’d almost had Benjy, he noted, but almost only counted in horse shoes, to borrow the phrase from one of his great uncles. Perhaps in a bit, when he wasn’t as coherent. It was underhanded tactics, but all was fair in love and war and all that rot. “I look forward to it. And perhaps she has a pretty friend for me, as well.” At the moment he was rather put off from dating, but that could change. Benjy almost snorted at John’s suggestion, but since he was eating, it came out as a half-laugh and he nearly choked on his chips. “Sure, sure,” he wondered how funny it would be if Emmeline introduced Marlene to John. He swallowed the rest of his chips so that he wouldn’t choke again as he kept talking. “You’re taking me home,” he was rather certain that he couldn’t go on his own. “Neighbourly responsibility and all that.” |