Miranda Pye (fashion_victim) wrote in whatprice, @ 2009-08-05 02:49:00 |
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Current mood: | contemplative |
Who: Miranda Pye and Adrian Pucey
What: Adrian makes it for his meeting as Dominic and after making sure each other are alright, the conversation turns serious.
When: Tuesday night, August 4, 2009
Where: Miranda's flat in Soho.
Warnings: none aside from a little innuendo and Adrian acting oddly.
Status: Complete.
Miranda couldn't help jumping a mile when the doorbell rang through her flat. She was in the middle of work, so this wasn't an unusual response, but the events from over the weekend had made her jumpier than normal. Because even if she did have people stopping by her place all the time for meetings and fittings and showings of works in progress, the knowledge that one of those visits might not be who she expected made her stomach twist uneasily. Glancing up at the clock, she was surprised to see it was much later than she thought and then a wide grin spread over her face as she realized just which meeting this was.
Tossing her pencil into the holder, she glanced at her window that overlooked the street and relaxing at the familiar figure standing there, rushed down to open the door. "Dominic," she said cheerfully. "Right on time, as always. If only all models could be so punctual."
"Most of your models are probably a little more hindered by traffic than I am," Adrian said with a smirk as he let her close the door behind him. "How are you, Miranda?"
"Good," Miranda supplied with a laugh as she led him up the stairs to her flat. "Busy, but that's not new." Waiting until they had gotten officially into the flat and the door was closed and locked, she wrapped her arms tightly around Adrian. "I'm glad you came. I was worried for a moment that you wouldn't show and since I don't have my usual source of information..."
Adrian slid his arms around Miranda and gave her a reassuring squeeze. "Things aren't so bad I daren't come by a long shot. I don't think they will be that bad from this at all."
Miranda breathed out a long sigh as she relaxed more into Adrian's arms. "Good. Because otherwise I'd have to get violent on someone and God help my models if they're the only ones I can take my aggravation out on. Death by a million stick pins isn't a happy death," she said before pulling back and thwapping him. "You also owe me big time. That message of yours had the potential of bubbling up massive family drama. Especially since Gus took out Jules' kids the day before."
"I do owe you. I wouldn't have done it if I hadn't been worried sick." He kissed the top of her head. "If your brother gets dragged in, there'll be more than family drama afterwards. I just want him safe. And you too."
"If my brother gets dragged in, those poor military sods are going to wish they never messed with him," Miranda grumbled, a very dark look crossing her face. "I have enough clients and colleagues in high places that would bring down hell on them if they ever knew anyone was hurting my family. And that's just what they'd do. They'd be even worse off once I was through with them." Letting the dark look simmer on her face a moment more, she finally let it slide off to be replaced by a coy, teasing smirk. "Oh, you have more of an investment in making sure I'm safe though. Whatever would you do without Dominic Cullen."
"Die of boredom, I'm sure." That smirk was back, only to be lost again as Adrian made a face at Miranda to punctuate his next complaint. "Did I tell you your brother had me painting the clinic by hand? What is it with his obsession with manual labour?"
"Oi, no insulting the manual labour," Miranda said as she pulled back and slapped Adrian's ass. "You do too much of that and I'll be poking you with stick pins." Shrugging, she headed towards the kitchen area. "It's what we do, Adrian. You get a new house, you paint it to be yours. You find out your wife is pregnant, you paint the baby's room. You get bored, you redecorate and paint the walls a different color." Opening the fridge, she glanced around in it. "If someone actually bought that townhouse of yours, the first thing they'd do is strip all the paint and do it over in their own colors to make it theirs. Manually is the only way we have. I'm not sure why Gus wouldn't just wave his wand to do it, but... Somethings are better done physically." Perking up as she thought of a good example, she grinned cheekily at Adrian. "Would you prefer if I actually had hours of foreplay and hot, sweaty, intense sex with you or for me to just wave a wand and get the same effect instantly?" She narrowed her eyes slightly. "And I'd be very careful how you answer that. I still maintain my threat of stick pins."
He gave her a gleefully naughty grin. "I rather think you like the way I use my wand, and that's what's most important. And besides," he added, more seriously, following her into the kitchen, "nobody buys houses in my set. You just inherit them. The last time we did serious redecoration in my house was forty-three--eighteen forty-three--because part of the house burnt down. Well, that and when someone set the dining room curtains in the townhouse on fire."
Miranda laughed lightly as she shook her head. "Meanwhile, I couldn't even tell you off the top of my head who my ancestors from back then were. Maybe with some talk with Mum and Dad and some help from one of those family tree websites, I could finagle it. But otherwise..." She shrugged. "So, what do you want to drink and tell me about your adventures in painting? It couldn't have been that horrible."
"Something fizzy. And probably not alcoholic, because unfortunately I'm worried about being on call. I'll be glad when we have regular clinic hours again." Adrian made another face. "House calls are tiresome." He dropped his jacket over the back of one of the kitchen chairs and sprawled gracefully into it.
"You're just lazy and self important and think your patients should be kind enough to come to you," Miranda teased as she pulled a bottle of soda from the fridge and pulled a glass out of the cupboard. Pouring him a glass, she rolled her eyes. "But tell me about it. I remember the few times when Dad'd be on call all the time rather than just having set shifts. It was madness." After setting the glass in front of Adrian, she turned back to put the bottle in the fridge. "So, that's going along nicely then? Other than you having to suffer from manual labor."
"We're on schedule to open on Monday. Thank God. It'll be a madhouse the first week, too. Everyone has everything they've been putting off since we closed the old place, plus even if Diagon isn't considered completely safe, it's at least wizarding turf, which means we'll broaden our patient base on that side. People who were afraid that they couldn't masquerade as Muggles will come to us now. Cheers." Adrian raised his glass to her and drank down.
Miranda smiled warmly as she filled up a glass of water from the tap. "Cheers indeed," she said before taking a seat across the table from Adrian. "How will the clinic hours work with Dominic's schedule?" she asked curiously before giving Adrian a look. "And are you going to get too comfortable with having all wizarding patients that I'm going to have to put you through crash courses the day before you need to go on?"
"Noooooo. I didn't forget how to behave between sessions when I was at St Mungo's and I won't forget now either." He frowned, thinking about the clinic. "I'll need to be scarce for a couple of weeks, but that's to do with getting the clinic settled and not with anything else. The pent-up demand for services is strong."
"That should be fine. The shows are slacking off a bit anyways with everyone preparing for Fashion Week," Miranda said, huffing out a tired sigh at the knowledge of how much work was going to fall onto her desk the closer and closer they got to mid-September. Pausing a moment, she took a sip of her water before tilting her head curiously. "Will Dominic be making it to Fashion Week this time? Or are you still wary of all the camera coverage?"
"I need to talk to Gus. And--" he made a face "--Ellie."
Miranda nodded as she shifted a bit uncomfortably on her seat. "How is Ellie doing? Did she enjoy Gus' party last week?"
Well. That was the sticky topic. "I think she did. She met some people she wouldn't have otherwise met, but she saw some family friends like Marcus as well. Also, she made a potential connection for a job there, which we'll have to see about."
"Oh really? That's great! Well, as long as she actually likes whatever job it is or can at least tolerate it," Miranda said excitedly before raising an eyebrow curiously. "Has anyone given you grief over your 'don't ask, don't tell' policy at the party?"
"Nobody's said a word so far." The last two were the key words. "Eventually Ellie and I will have to have some sort of talk, but we weren't there yet. On the other hand, I'm sure she wants me to respect her privacy where young men are concerned. Maybe she's setting the example she'd like me to follow."
Miranda laughed as she shook her head. "I wish her luck in that. I know for a fact that the privacy of an older sibling is completely different than the privacy of a younger sibling. Especially when it's an older brother keeping an eye on a younger sister. For her own well-being of course." She batted her eye lashes and smiled ever so sweetly. "After all, us poor little sisters can't be expected to take care of ourselves."
"Ellie was in trouble either way since she was going to have to live with one or the other of her brothers. She picked me; now I just have to live down to her expectations, which I reckon I have already started to do." Adrian took a sip of his fizzy drink. "What do you call this stuff?"
"It's Fanta Orange," Miranda supplied, tilting her head curioiusly. "Do you like it? I've a few other flavors of Fanta in the cupboard."
Adrian held up the glass as if he could tell something about it by looking at it. "It tastes strange. Some kind of--I don't know--it's sweet and bitter at the same time."
Frowning slightly at the description, Miranda went and pulled the bottle out of the fridge. After glancing at the label, she placed the bottle down in front of Adrian and tapped the side. "The ingredients are right there. Not that a lot of it is 'real' ingredients. Although it's better than a lot of other fizzy drinks."
His eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed as he read the list. "What is--" he sounded out the word "--ass part tame?"
Miranda couldn't help giggling a bit at the pronunciation of the word before smiling apologetically at Adrian. "Aspartame. It's an artificial sweetener. It's used to replace sugar, either to cut calories out or for people like diabetics who want to watch their sugar levels."
"But there's already sugar in the list!" Adrian protested. "If this is better than other fizzy drinks, I don't want to know what's in them. Makes me nostalgic for pumpkin juice. You know what's in pumpkin juice? Pumpkin."
Miranda rolled her eyes slightly. "Yes. But you have magic to make sure that just pumpkin juice doesn't go bad. We have to make do with chemicals helping our ice boxes along." She smirked slightly though as she poked a finger at Adrian. "And how do you know it's just pumpkin juice? Do you go down there and crush the pumpkin yourself?"
Adrian looked at her deadpan. "No. I have my house-elf do it."
Her smirk grew triumphantly as she leaned across the table and tapped the tip of Adrian's nose with her finger. "And how do you know he's not adding little extra tidbits to that just pumpkin juice? Bugs for extra protein. Crushed up carrots for extra vitamin C to make sure those eyes of yours stay sharp. And that doesn't even go into all the little spices for extra flavor."
"Because I trust my house-elf. Don't get into epistemology and logic-chopping with a bloke who had philosophy training from the Jesuits. You'll lose," Adrian warned Miranda.
Miranda waved her hand dismissively as she grabbed the bottle of soda and put it back in the fridge. "And I have a degree from London's best fashion school. I'm an artiste. We make up logic and meaning, therefore it doesn't have to make sense to anyone but yourselves. And that last part is just if it happens to happen, it isn't a requirement." She held off on the joke about that sort of being like the Jesuits, but considering everything, she doubted he wanted his faith to be poked fun at right now. "Do you ask him for just pumpkin juice? Because the extra vitamins would make his master big and strong."
Adrian shook his head. "Actually, pumpkin juice is what ickle firsties drink. I think Ellie had some with Ginevra Weasley's boy--he was the youngster that was wandering around--but she's old enough for wine. I drink Jameson's like a civilised bloke, and I pour it myself."
"Ah, yeah. Nickname of Ginny, right? Gus went out with the two of them when they took the kids out Saturday. He seemed like a lovely boy. Gus certainly took a shine to him, but I think he does that with any kids who aren't complete and utter brats." Miranda made a face as she sat back down in her chair. "You get on me for my fake sugar, yet you'll boast about drinking something made from moldly oats get all soaked about in coals and oak barrels."
His eyebrows arched. "I know what those moldy oats--which are actually barley, and not moldy even before they're distilled--will do to me when I drink them. Can you say the same for your chemicals?"
"Yes," Miranda said, sticking her tongue out. "All of those chemicals have to jump through lots of organization rings before they can actually get into food and drinks. Aspartame won't hurt you." She made a face. "Unless you have this one really rare genetic disease, but that's only if the aspartame breaks chemically to a certain level..." She rolled her eyes. "But then I'm also the daughter of a doctor. You get to hear a lot of stuff about what chemicals and just your normal 'just pumpkin juice' do to you."
"I dated a girl on Potion and Plant Poisoning while I was a Trainee. I've heard it all, too, thanks." Adrian made a face. "Still, I think I'd rather trust my house-elf. Or Mr. Jameson's still, which has probably been replaced by some hideous industrial process I don't want to know about. I trust one man over an organisation any day, if that man's the sort I find trustworthy at all."
"Yeah, who knows what sort of industrial process they've put in now that that French guy bought the company?" Miranda teased. "And I'm not sure how long Jameson's has actually been a one man show..." She took a sip of her glass before she looked curiously at Adrian. "How does the rest of your family feel about Ellie staying with you instead of your brother?"
"There's just Charles and their mother. They're not pleased, but the options are better in London than in Bath for her." Despite all his complaining, Adrian took another sip of the fizzy coloured drink, but he did give it another suspicious look as he rolled it around on his tongue, as if trying to determine what the strange taste was.
"So if you were the one in Bath, they'd be more irritated about the matter?" Miranda asked before rolling her eyes teasingly. "If you're going to look at it as if it's going to gain life and attack you, I can get you something else." Tilting her head curiously, she swang her legs back and forth, not really caring when her toes kept brushing against Adrian's shin. "What sort of fizzy drinks do you have a home?"
"Champagne, although some of it's really sparkling Italian wine, and soda water and tonic water for mixed drinks. Sometimes beer, but I'm not much of a beer drinker other than Guinness, and I don't like the cans and I hardly drink enough to have a tap." Adrian stretched his legs a little. "I could keep a tap in Bath, but if I were living in Bath, the world would be quite different, I think."
"Any fizzy drinks that are meant to not be alcoholic or combined with alcohol?" Pulling her legs up slightly to let Adrian stretch, she waited for him to settle before putting her feet on top of one of his outstretched legs. It wasn't well cushioned, but it was a good enough foot rest.
Unfortunately, Adrian's hiking boots were impossible to toe off. "Butterbeer, I reckon. It's technically alcoholic, though. We don't have anything like your soda. Mineral water is closest, I'd think, and we're not so keen on that here as they are on the Continent."
Miranda nodded in understanding, wiggling her toes against Adrian's leg. "I was wondering, since all the sodas I could think of have chemicals of some sort. Just really adding odd syrups to carbonated water, but I was curious if you guys had anything like that." She took a sip of her water before tilting her head curiously. "How do you think your life would be different if you were in bath?" she asked before smirking slightly as she poked his leg. "Other than obvious relations and such."
"It's more a matter of what things could change for me to go home. It's my house; the wards belong to me. Sometimes it weighs on me that I can't go home. But I need to be in London and without the Floo working, it's too much trouble." Adrian shook his head. "In an ideal world, I'd live there and have a practice in my surgery, and go to hospital when I was needed."
"The Floo is the one that works through the fireplaces, yeah?" Miranda asked before frowning. "Why couldn't you just teleport in when you need to?"
Adrian nodded by way of answering Miranda's question. "It's tiring and it takes concentration, and while it can't be traced trivially, that is to say they can't tell where you're going when you go, it's risky in that it's a lot of magic and might be noticed. It's just easier and faster to get around in London proper since I can't Floo straight in."
"What about..." Miranda paused a moment, thinking back to a random conversation with Gus about all of this. "Oh, I can't remember the name. But the things that act like your teleporting does, but it's housed in an object. So that it's doing the magic rather than you. Could you get one of those?"
"Portkey. In the old days they were very restricted; the government licenced making them. Now, I don't know what the restrictions on making them are, but they're not safe. If I gave you one that was properly prepared, you could get into my house with it. But so could anyone else who could use it." Adrian gave her a very significant look to see if she followed his line of thinking.
Miranda nodded in understanding as she made a face. "Got it. It's like leaving the key to your flat hanging on the front door so your friend can get in. They might be able to unlock it and walk in, but anyone else who passes by and sees the key can do it as well. And considering the people who are paying the closest attention to you..." His words from before still percolating in her brain, she tilted her head curiously. "Does the townhouse feel like home to you too? Or do those wards at the other house overpower whatever sense of current home you have?"
"I grew up in that house. My father grew up in it. My grandfather grew up in it. My sons and grandsons should grow up in it too. There have been Puceys in that part of Somerset since William the Conqueror deeded land there to one of my ancestors to build a tower there more than 900 years ago. I carry that with me in my bones. The townhouse is fine, but Pucey House is home."
It took Miranda a moment before she blinked out of the wide-eyed stare of amazement she'd focused on Adrian at his words. "Wow... just... wow..." she breathed out before shaking her head. "It always amazes me just how... for lack of better word old everything in your world is... I mean, sure, there are places here that are that old, but... They belong to the public generally. They're historic."
"Your world seems very temporary to me." Adrian wasn't looking so much at Miranda as past her, into some distance, probably temporal, that she couldn't see. "It's all changing, all the time. It doesn't last." He focused on her face again. "You get bored with things and move on."
"It's changing, but I don't think it's really getting bored..." Miranda said softly. "It's more... trying to find a better way to do things." She rolled her eyes slightly. "I mean with practical things. All this design stuff it obviously the newest fanciest thing and newest ideas. What looks good and fads, but your fashion is that way too, I bet. Once you start worrying about what clothes look like and not how best they keep you warm and how best they use the fabric, it's all merely about the aesthetics of the time." She sighed as she started twirling some of her hair around her fingers. "But we don't have magic. If we want to move something big, we can't just shrink it or levitate it or do whatever you do to solve the problem. Someone will figure out one way and then someone will find out another. And people adapt to that. Or one way will be found to do too much damage to the environment, so a new one will be thought up." She shrugged. "We also have a lot more people, Adrian. I mean, from looking online, there were Pye's given land when your ancestors were getting land. I have no clue if they were related to me or if they were related to the God knows how many other Pyes in England or the ones you immigrated away. If I meet someone else just around or read about them and they have the last name Pye, it's likely I don't know who they are. I'm thinking that it's not the same with you and hearing the name Pucey. At least in the wizarding world."
"The wizarding world's so small, though. Almost of all of us in Britain go to one school, so it's not just that any Puceys are related to me. It's all the old families in Britain on my father's side, and all the Irish on my mother's. If I stop to think about it, I can tell you how closely or distantly I'm related to any of the old purebloods, or I can look it up somewhere or ask some old auntie who knows." Adrian shifted in his seat slightly. "Sometimes I reckon it's nice to not have to worry about what your distant cousin who's Chief Warlock thinks, or your father's second wife whose brother was a Death Eater, and so on and so on and so on. On the other hand, I have moorings that most people just don't have, and I reckon that counts for a lot. And it's not as though I know any other way to be."
Miranda laughed lightly. "I don't even know how many schools we have in Britain, but it has to be enough to take care of 16 million children." She smiled warmly as she reached out to take Adrian's hand. "If you're worrying about what family thinks, even if it's distant, you'd have the same problems here. Just probably not as on big a scale, unless your family decided to breed like crazy. I reckon it would be nice to have a house that I've known has been in my family for over 900 years, well, the land at least and to have the history and security of always having that home. Instead of having to worry that when Mum and Dad do go, that if they still have the house, if any of us will have the income to actually be able to keep it, let alone if there are any debts that we need to pay off of our parents that would require giving up the house..." Shrugging, she looked down at the table and their hands as she rubbed her thumb against the side of his hand. "But it's also the only way I know to be and in a way, I have less choice in the matter than you do about that."
"Land is capital. You only spend what you bring in plus part of your interest. You don't spend capital," Adrian said absently. Then he processed the last sentence. "Why do you say that?"
Miranda shook her head slightly. "Depending on your situation, you have to usually pay the government for any sort of capital you have. Or inherit. Gus has to pay money even for his flat based on its perceived value. If Mum and Dad end up leaving too much money or goods to us based on what the government says, we'll have to pay taxes on that too. People can be put into extreme debt just because they were left goods that were too valuable and they didn't have the money to pay the taxes on them." Taking a deep breath, she looked up to meet Adrian's eyes, not sure how he would react to what she would say next. "Documentation put aside, you could live as a Muggle if you really wanted to, Adrian. It would take some time to learn everything and get the skills to do whatever job you'd want, but you could learn them. No matter how many books I read or how many facts I learn, I'll never be a witch. I'll never be able to see some of the things you see just because I don't have that magic. I'll never be able to find the way to get to your home without help from a wizard or witch." She shrugged. "It's how it is."
"You say that as if I could just put up my wand and become a Muggle. It's not that easy. I know a man who tried it. Rich fellow like me, smart, clever, well-qualified. He's in some kind of pre-university thing now, and he works as a cook in a restaurant. And he can't stay out of the wizarding world, because he keeps showing up and bothering me and other people. And you know why that is? Because he can't stop being what he is." Adrian did not say the other thing he feared, which was that he hadn't heard from Theodore in a while because Theodore was dead. As relevant as it was to the conversation, he didn't want to point out that he couldn't live in Miranda's world because people like her were trying to kill people like him.
"I know it's not as easy as that, especially for people who are raised their whole life in the wizarding world," Miranda said softly. "But you still have the choice to try and live like one, even if you find you personally can't manage it. Or find that you keep getting pulled back into the wizarding world, although since you mentioned how closely related much of the wizarding world is, I imagine that all that family would be as much of hinderance as everything else. At least if you're of the sort who is worried about what your second cousin is thinking about your life choices... But while you could try and live like a Muggle, I can't try and live like a witch. I can't pick up a wand and have it just work." She couldn't help blushing as she looked down at the table sheepishly. "Believe me, I've tried..."
"I could live like a Muggle, maybe. But I'd never be one. It would be like--like trying to get on with one hand missing." Adrian balled his fist momentarily and released it, holding his hand up and looking at the backs of the long fingers. "You have technology and you say 'you could learn that' because you think I'm clever. But it's not the same. You'd have to give up everything, maybe even your name." He closed his eyes. "You know why that bloke I was talking about gave up and went Muggle? Because he was convicted of war crimes and lost everything he owned. He had a house like mine and they took it from him. It's easy to leave when you have nothing to go back to."
"People who aren't that clever manage to learn it," Miranda pointed out. "It's not as odd as it would seem to not know technology..." She thought over Adrian's words, surprised by that fact that someone like him could actually have his land taken away from him. To have all his inheritance lost. But his words nagged at her mind too and all her experiences. "What's the general opinion of what Muggleborns are expected to do once they start Hogwarts?" she asked curiously, knowing what she saw in her brother, but wondering if that was just Gus and not all Muggleborns.
"They spend seven years isolated from their Muggle peers except for a short break in the summer. That's socialisation into our world. The old bigots think they're disloyal or different or whatever, but that's because they think all that matters is isolation and purity," Adrian sneered. "Because they want to talk to their parents and their brothers and their sisters. If sympathising with that be treason, call me a blood traitor." He shut his mouth abruptly. He'd said too much.
"Seven years to absorb all that world and history, but then having to give up what little history you have so you're starting at zero... That's got to be tough," Miranda said softly, knowing that the comment could easily go both way in their conversation, just that with going from Wizard to Muggle there wasn't a set timeframe or school. She couldn't help the bit of a wry smirk that tugged at the corner of her lip as she poked Adrian's leg with her toe. "I would think they would have more issues than you just thinking family should be able to talk with each other with them being so intent on isolation and purity." The smirk faded away though as her face took on a more serious look. "Are there still a fair number of wizards who think that way?"
"I don't know. After the last war, who's going to be honest about that?" Adrian shrugged. "A lot of people have reason to hate 'Muggles'--" and he airquoted that word "--or at least the ones who killed their families and friends, but how much of that is a proxy for purism I don't know. With some people, you can guess one way or another, but if you don't have some idea of their politics, it's hard to tell." He added, not quite as an afterthought, "Ellie was at Hogwarts."
"I imagine a lot of people have reason to hate 'wizards' too for the same reason," Miranda pointed out to balance his words, even though she was sure he likely knew that anyways. Doing the math in her head, she swallowed hard as she nodded, figuring she knew what he meant, but also figuring it was probably safer to make sure she was getting his meaning. "When Hogwarts was attacked?"
Adrian nodded.
"I'm sorry," Miranda said softly, knowing that it wasn't really her fault that any of it happened, but it seeming like it needed to be said considering this was Adrian talking about a situation in which his sister could have easily been killed. Or worse if what Gus said was true. "You know I'd do whatever I actually could to keep you all safe, right?"
He sat up, accidentally dumping her feet off his, and reached across the table to take her hand. "It's not like that," he said, without specifying the antecedent of either of the pronouns.
Shifting to get her balance back on her seat, Miranda studied Adrian worriedly, not sure what was going on in his head and considering the conversation not sure if it was something she would regret knowing afters if she pushed him. Squeezing Adrian's hand lightly after a moment, she pulled his hand up to her lips to place a light kiss on the back of his hand. "I know," she said, even if she wasn't sure if she really did. "It's always ten times more complicated than just that." Standing up, she smiled reassuringly down at Adrian as she tugged at his hand. "Come on. I went on a shopping trip to LUSH a little while ago and I have quite a few massage bars begging to be tested out on some handsome man's body. All you have to do is help me herd Gus' demon cats into the loo." She smirked coyly. "Unless you don't mind an audience of that sort."
He let her pull him to his feet. "You've got to be joking," he said, sounding more like himself. "Cat hair all over everything. I have no idea how Gus manages."
"The cat hair isn't that bad," Miranda said with a roll of her eyes as she pulled him into a hug and brushed her lips against his. "Although if you don't want to deal with them, we could always make do with the studio. Just not on the silk this time. I don't care if you can magically clean it afterwards."
"Studio's fine with me if it keeps those monsters out. And we'll put away the silk. Some things," Adrian said, "even magic can't make go back quite the way they were before."