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gretchen watkins is the spice of life (swashbuckley) wrote in wished,
@ 2010-07-27 22:06:00

Entry tags:

!2003: 07, !complete, gretchen watkins, titus scabior

WHO: Gretchen Watkins & Trevor Scabior
WHAT: Gretchen's bored and has a question
WHERE: Their office
WHEN: 27 July evening
WARNINGS/RATING/STATUS: This'll probably end in a fade to black, knowing them, plus liberal cursing and drinking/R/Complete!

Flipping through her journal, Gretchen tapped her fingers against the desk impatiently. The entry from that Asian fellow seemed sketchy, but Gretch could handle herself, she knew what to say and what not to say. At this point though, without more information from him, the conversation could go either way. Still, it paid to be prepared.

Trevor wasn't at home. She didn't think he was in the house, it had been entirely too quiet, and a quick check of the rooms he most frequently occupied confirmed that; the only being in the house other than her was Keg, sprawled on his back in the middle of his master's bed, snoring loudly.

Hoping he was at the office, Gretchen slid her feet into a pair of sandals and apparated out of the house. It was late enough that most people were gone from the shop, only the presence of Claudia and Gifford lounging amongst the books alerted her to the fact that Trevor was here. She nodded at them as she passed, hiding her smile when they subtly straightened up at the sight of her, and disappeared upstairs.

The door at the top of the steps was closed and she pushed her way in, rolling her eyes at the sight of Trevor, leaning back in his desk chair, dead asleep. Shutting the door behind her, she crossed the room and tugged her skirt up slightly, enough so she could comfortably straddle his lap. "Dreaming of me?" she murmured close to his ear, grinning.

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opportunist
2010-07-28 02:48 am UTC (link)

The World Cup was turning into a veritable gold mine for Trevor and his cohorts. He'd expected all the excited, eager fans to pay off but he hadn't realise how well. And the longer the tourney carried on the more bets people seemed willing to place, almost as if excitement was getting the better of them. Sure, he enjoyed watching England kick international arse but what he really loved was the pile of gold each round brought in.

But as exciting as it was, that wasn't always enough to keep his attention when he'd had a long night and needed a quick nap. A quick nap had turned into almost two hours before Gretchen found him passed out in his chair, Quidditch lineups spread across the desk in front of him. She straddled him and murmured in his ear, more than enough to cause him to wake with a soft grunt. "Like you'd believe me if I said no?" he mumbled sleepily, wrapping one arm around her waist and ruffling his hair with the other.

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swashbuckley
2010-07-28 02:59 am UTC (link)

Waving her hand dismissively, Gretchen reruffled his hair when he dropped his hand, fixing it the way she liked it. "You know you dream about me," she responded, airily. "Don't even try to deny it."

She twisted slightly in his grasp, looking at the papers spread on the desk in front of him. "Working hard?" she mocked, not unkindly, then tapped her lips with a finger, changing the subject without warning. "Hey, who do we know who's into Asian relics?"

	swashbuckley 2010-07-28 03:36 am UTC (link)
	Idly reaching up and toying with his fringe, Gretchen nodded. "Us specifically, do you think?" she asked, shrinking the journal and putting it away. "Or just general ne'er-do-wells? If someone was looking for us specifically, we'd've heard, yeah?" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	opportunist 2010-07-28 04:12 am UTC (link)
	"No," Trevor said firmly, not even willing to consider the possibility. "Warrington was a fluke and this...is nothing." Regardless, Trevor felt surly and disgruntled and pulled out his wand to summon a drink. "Gretch," he said plainly, catching the bottle as it flew toward his hand. "Get off." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	opportunist 2010-07-28 03:11 pm UTC (link)
	Trevor didn't like the implications of this conversation and felt himself prickle a little more, promptly taking the glass from Gretchen in response to it. "If the lot we 'ave can't fucking find out anything I say replace 'em." He watched her fall into his empty chair and rubbed his hand over his face. "I don't like that," he muttered, taking another sip. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	swashbuckley 2010-07-28 03:46 pm UTC (link)
	"I don't, either." Gretchen wriggled in the chair until she got comfortable, taking a sip over her drink and looking up at him. "It's something we should think about though. Warrington may have been a fluke, but what if he wasn't?" She sighed and frowned and took a deeper swig of her drink, not enjoying the possibility that what she was saying was true. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)