on your mark [ben]

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As far as sports went, Brita hadn't loved plain running all her life. She worked at Impervius because the majority of activities there were more communal than solo, and there was such a strong community between its frequenters, brought together by a love of fitness and often of Muggle sports. But it was an easy way to get outside in a way that they only imitated with the enchanted courts at Impervius, and London did have some lovely parks, which were frequented by children and animals and summer sunshine, all things the young woman loved to see.

At least, that's what Brita told herself. Plausible, right? Well...an unbiased observer would notice that she'd started to spend a lot more time running, even by herself, the more she met up with Ben and Hank to do it. And she tended to do it on routes that brought her around Diagon Alley and St. Mungo's. Of course she had some favorite spots she was trying to find every time she went, but she couldn't keep deluding herself forever. Brita might admit that she found her regular exercise meetups with the Healer the highlights of her week, but she it seemed was still getting to the point where she accepted the consequences of how that affected her actions subconsciously.

Still, running did let her get into a rhythm, her feet pounding the ground like the blood thudding in her veins. Even for someone as in shape as she was there was that initial hill to get over every time she started, where her body realized it had to kick itself into gear, but after that, things became a lot simpler. Runner's high. Brita didn't worry about many things in the first place, and the few things she did worry about, like how Cinnamon was doing or what skill she was going to focus on teaching when the Wendell kids came around again, evaporated in the July heat when she hit that clarity. Instead there was open air and a montage of people, all of whom received the flash of her sunny smile as she passed whether they were looking or not. We're alive! seemed to be the call of her body and the green space around her. What more is there to say?

Brita was the type of girl to believe in coincidences--how else did things work out the way they did so much of the time? But she'd never have placed a bet on actually having the one she was subconsciously looking for every time she laced up her shoes to come out here until she saw a very large, very fluffy, very familiar shape at the far edge of her field of vision. A good part of her brain dissociated itself very suddenly from the euphoric feeling of the trail and started to overthink everything. But Brita was nothing if not decisive--she tended to get herself into things just to make sure she couldn't back down afterwards. Her Gryffindor had always manifested itself in diving headlong into things. "Hank!" she yelled, closing in on the man and dog with every second. It was a bit silly to yell his name instead, but she was pretty sure his ears would pick up on her voice more easily than Ben's. "On your left," she called playfully, cruising by before decelerating and turning to face them. "Hey! Hey big guy!" she said, holding out her hand to scratch the excitable pup behind the ears. All dogs were puppies to her. Eyes twinkling, she looked back up at his owner. "Penny for your thoughts on coincidences?"

It had been a very, very long week.

Hospital activity commonly waxed and waned throughout any given week and was typically busier in nice weather, but this past week had been unlike anything Ben could remember in the past few years. It was a bizarre anomaly with no apparent catalyst aside from sheer randomness. Not only had the patient volume been high, but the incidence of higher-acuity cases had also risen significantly. The Gryffindor alumnus had needed to stay several hours late for five of the past six days, and the strain was finally catching up to him.

But today marked the first of a three-day break, for which he was intensely grateful. After a much-needed sleeping-in, the Healer hoped to take Hank for a run but the day had unfortunately grown too hot for the aging mutt. So a leisurely stroll through the shady park it was, with a short intermission for some good old-fashioned duck chasing by the pond. Despite his age and thanks to his breed makeup, Hank still had the energy of a puppy most days. He loved to chase, but was always gentle with whatever he was pursuing: by some stroke of luck he had once caught a wild rabbit, and instead of killing the lagomorph he had presented it completely unharmed to a relieved Ben, who had promptly released the terrified creature after instructing Hank to “leave it”.

The pair had just turned for home when Hank suddenly slammed on the brakes, ears at full attention and channeling his inner Shepherd as he looked around intently for something Ben had not yet noticed.
“What’s up, bud?”
The normally obedient dog ignored him, turning around and wanting to go back the way they had come.
“It’s too hot for a long walk today. C’mon, let’s go home. We’ll go again tonight when it’s cooler.”
Still, Hank wouldn’t follow. He strained at the leash, an excited whimper escaping him. And then Ben finally heard what Hank already had.
“On your left,” came an all-too-familiar voice behind him. Before he could react, the source was suddenly in front of him and grinning.

Ben opened his mouth to greet her – but the pretty blonde had turned her attention immediately to Hank, who was now positively beside himself with excitement as she scratched his ears. The ninety-pound furball was dancing in place, whining, and wagging his tail so ferociously that a small child passing by too closely would be in danger of being propelled several feet from the projected impact. Hank was an extraordinarily friendly dog by nature, but he had particularly taken to Brita: in fact, the only other person to receive such an enthusiastic greeting from the dog was Ben himself. That alone spoke volumes to the Healer, who did not doubt the uncanny canine aptitude for character judgment. The train of thought brought a smile to his face.

“Well gee, it’s pretty clear who your favorite is,” he chuckled good-naturedly, attempting to disentangle the still-whining dog from his leash. “Coincidence? Absolutely – unless you’ve been following us, in which case this is no longer a coincidence but a premeditated meeting.” The Healer grinned impishly, running a hand through his dirty blond hair. Merlin, he needed a haircut… it was getting long and a tad unruly again.

“Coincidence or no, great to see you! It’s been a while.” In truth, it had maybe been two weeks at most, but after this past week it felt much longer. Not to mention the almost-25-year-old very much looked forward to their “exercise dates,” for Brita’s company as well as for the stress-relief that sports provided.
“We were just heading home… it’s a little too hot for Hank today, poor guy. Fancy a cool-down walk?”

"Have you been keeping him inside?" Brita asked with mock disapproval. "Look at the way his tail is moving, he's desperate for company. Poor Hank, Ben's been cooping you up because he has too much work, huh?" She turned a cheeky grin back to Ben. "He's lonelier than you are though, and love gets doled out proportional to need, right?" Besides, things were more complicated when it came to people. You could go crazy on a dog and they would just love you back in return. It didn't work like that with people. Still, Ben was something else.

"Not today, but I'll remember to indulge my creeper tendencies some other time." Brita gave the Healer a quick hug, always one for displaying her affection. "There, now you two are even. Work's been rough, huh? It's showing in your hair," she grinned. "Of course! It's been way too long. Wish I had my wand, I could give Hank a spray of water or something." It was perhaps unusual for a witch to be separated from her wand, but Brita rarely brought it out when exercising--there was just nowhere to stash it among all the tight athletic clothing--and used Impervius as a home base for Flooing back and forth. "Although, there is that pond over there..."

"So what's new in the emergency room?" It was sometimes hard for Brita to hear about it, but she asked anyway. She knew that at Muggle gyms they often had injuries, but all the equipment at Impervius was charmed. If you suddenly dropped one of your weights, it would hang in the air instead of falling, and in general would add upward force to reduce the effective weight if it was too wobbly; swimmers wore wristbands that detected when arms were moving in the instinctive drowning response and would immediately drag them to the edge; the treadmills only ran if one person was in a standing position on them; and all the balls for games like tennis and racquetball were enchanted to be immediately flung away if they neared the head. Some people thought it was coddling, but Brita wanted to avoid the risks.

The Healer played along with Brita’s mock-accusation, raising both hands and widening his blue-gray eyes in mock indignity. “You caught me. Molly has been his only company and the only time I’ve seen him is for bathroom breaks… and meals… and walks… and letting him sleep in my bed…”
Grinning back, Ben dropped his hands back at his sides. Both Brita and he knew full well that Hank was the type to lose his mind with excitement upon your return – even if you were gone for all of two minutes.
“Alright, yes, I suppose you could say he’s lonelier… though I’d argue that he has better company in a cat and a bird most of the time than some of the people I have to deal with at work.”

He smirked at her casual dismissal of creeper tendencies and moved easily to accept her hug, returning the gesture but allowing one arm to remain draped across her shoulders. Both of them were of the “touchy-feely,” affectionate brood and thus exchanged tactile gestures as easily and as comfortably as most people exchanged smiles. Not many people were comfortable with such interactions – but Brita was something else. It was not surprising that Ben had been drawn to her for it from the get-go. There was something else else about the Trickett, though; something that Ben was having trouble putting his finger on. Their friendship had always been an easy one – though they had first met on a somewhat embarrassing note at Brita’s expense – which made spending time with the younger witch a no-brainer for Ben. And, naturally, the more time they spent together, the more comfortable things were… but, sometimes, it was difficult to tell if they were following the typical “friends” trajectory, or leaning towards something more. The Gryffindor alumnus had, in truth, had only one serious girlfriend – and even that was over five years ago, now. He had nearly forgotten the natural progression of relationships outside of friendships, and was afraid to make any extrapolations. Brita was a fantastic person and friend, and he wasn’t about to hurry anything along that was or was not meant to be. He wasn’t even entirely sure how he felt, let alone how she did. Not to mention, Eden and Brita were friends.
Her comment on his hair brought him out of his reverie, eliciting a chuckle from the former Gryffindor, and he reflexively ran his fingers through it. “Yep, ‘stress level’ does indeed positively correlate with ‘length of hair’ in my case.”

At Brita’s suggestion of taking Hank for a swim in the pond Ben laughed out loud and looked at the mutt, but upon realizing Brita would be confused by this reaction he quickly elaborated.
“Well, last week we walked this same route and I let him go for a swim in that very pond. So he’s romping around and splashing and having a grand old time… and then this goose starts hissing at him. And it is mad. So I’m trying to call him over but he decides he wants to check out this bird, so he gets down on his belly and starts crawling over to it – and the thing goes after him, honking and hissing and trying to peck him! Poor guy had no idea what was going on – he looked at me with what was unmistakably sheer panic and got out of there as fast as he could. I think I laughed for five straight minutes.” He grinned, giving Brita’s shoulder a quick squeeze before finally removing his arm from her shoulders to scratch the mutt’s ears.

“As for work… well, you’ll be glad to hear that Impervius hasn’t supplied us with any patients – at least, to my knowledge,” he added, with a wicked grin and a wink. In truth, Ben was impressed with the safety measures in place at Impervius. Brita had previously told him about the various charms and monitoring equipment they had in place, and as a health care provider Ben was particularly appreciative of (and grateful for) such attention to detail.
“It’s been more or less the usual, really – various creature bites, a burn from undiluted Bubotuber pus, a particularly feisty Nose-Biting Teacup case…” Ben shrugged. “Nothing terribly exciting to report, I’m afraid.” He flashed her a grin, which quickly faded as he remembered that the dry, somewhat jaded sense of humor common to those in health care wasn’t usually shared or understood by those outside the field; it was an adaptive means of coping in a high-stress atmosphere.
He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a bit guilty. “Right. Ah, how’re things with you? Sessions going well?”

"Oh, now you're just trying to play yourself up as owner. Don't you know he can always use more love? Everyone thinks it's cats that are the royalty with everyone else as servants, but the secret is," she lowered her voice playfully, "it's the dogs that really deserve the whole nine yards." Words had always come and spilled from her in fast succession--Brita didn't know how to hold back, even when she wanted to. Even when it mattered, and she was thinking it mattered right now, because of who was in front of her, and how aware she was of his arm, not that she'd said anything that she wouldn't even if she was considering her words. It was nice. Everything else was overthinking. She had to take it slow, and not get too impulsive--at least, that was what everyone had been telling her all her life. She'd always thought it was stupid, but then, everyone who followed that advice seemed to have their things together.

Brita raised her eyebrows at Ben's reaction, and then burst out into peals of laughter as soon as she could tell where the story was going, giving Hank a consoling few pats on the head. "Awww, did your curiosity burn you, big guy? You didn't deserve that, did you? You want to go over there anyway and see if there are any geese this time of day?" Turning back to Ben, she pointed out, "There might not be any there today, if lucky. D'you reckon there was a nest around?" Hank was probably still reticent, though, so she smiled at both of them and added, "I'm game for walking toward your place, though. I think he'll like the idea of home better. Much less scary, unless he gets on Molly's nerves somehow."

"Nose-Biting Teacups, I never will understand who wastes their time coming up with some of these things. You'd think we'd have better things to do with the time we gain by being able to do magic," she said, shaking her head. Catching the shift in his mood, Brita admonished him gently. "Hey, stop that. I asked, remember? What kind of friend would I be if I didn't care about the daily ins and outs that come with your life passions? Besides," her tone turned joking, nudging the conversation back to playfulness, "the more we hear, the more things for us regular people to admire about what you superheroes do." Brita couldn't fathom having people's lives in her hands in any more direct way than encouraging them to be healthy. It was too much pressure. And she really did admire the way Ben could do what he did every day under that pressure--it was hard not to, and it probably contributed to the more-than-admiration she had started to feel recently.

Stretching her arms over her head and out to the side, she nodded contentedly. "I'm really happy about almost everyone's progress," she reported, thinking about her week. "I have this pair of tiny little twins in class and one of them took to real swimming a lot faster than the other, and her brother finally got the hang of it two days ago, so that was exciting. And this other boy's finally hitting great serves in tennis, and he's really excited! I think the only person I'm worried about is Anna, she's getting really discouraged about her times. You know I've never been one to encourage the focus on the perfectionism, and there's always friction when our big-picture visions don't match." She shrugged. "I've been thinking about transferring her to Edwin for a bit, but I'm not sure if he can help her as much. But look at me going on this time about people you don't know. Hey, look at that!" A colony of ants swarming around a larger bug near her foot had caught her eye and she squatted down effortlessly. "It's amazing what goes on around us while we're too busy to look down, isn't it?"

“Don’t worry: I won’t tell Molly you said that. She’d be very offended.” He winked, reaching down to ruffle Hank’s ears. Another smile broke across his face at Brita’s reaction to the poor dog’s plight; she had the most contagious laugh, he couldn’t help it.
“Hmm, I dunno… could very well be a nest, they’re territorial little buggers. I think Hank just got too close for comfort, though.”

Ben chuckled at her comment regarding the teacups.
“One would think so… but the reality is that it’s effectively the exact opposite. One of the world’s great paradoxes, so it would seem.”
He rubbed the back of his neck again, as he tended to do when feeling slightly embarrassed, and offered her a sheepish grin in response to her gentle chastisement. “You’re right – it’s just that sometimes I forget what qualifies as sufficient detail to be interesting versus more-than-you-wanted-to-know.”

He nudged her playfully, falling easily into step beside her as they headed towards his flat. Listening to her chatter on about her students was intensely therapeutic: while Ben loved his work, it was a very highly-specialized, fast-paced field. It was all too easy to forget that other, decidedly non-medical things went on in the world, especially when he was in the throes of his on-call weeks or had his days and nights completely flipped thanks to the overnight shift. Spending time with Brita was almost like a recalibration for his brain; never draining, and always therapeutic.
Unsurprisingly, once again the contagious excitement in her voice had him smiling along with her as she celebrated her students’ accomplishments. Then the conversation took a less excitable turn, and Ben’s brow furrowed at the concern in her voice.
“Who—?”

But before he could ask, Brita had exclaimed something and abruptly disappeared from view. Eyes widening in surprise, they followed her down to the ground where she was crouched, admiring a swarm of ants around quite a large bug in the middle of the sidewalk. That was the other incredible thing about Brita: she always took time to marvel at the simple wonders. It was a much-needed reality check.

Hank, assuming she had obviously squatted down to be closer to him, promptly stuck his wet nose in her ear and snuffled happily. The sunlight caught her blonde hair as she looked up, and Ben smiled.
“It certainly is,” he agreed. After a few moments he extended a hand to her; though she certainly needed no help whatsoever to stand up again, he had the sudden desire to touch her.

“Thirsty?” he asked cheerfully as they set off again.
“I'm trying out this Muggle concept I heard about from a mate at work called Sun Tea: basically you put a bunch of tea bags in a clear container of sorts, and set it on the windowsill in direct sunlight to brew. Takes a hell of a lot longer than just heating up water so I don’t completely understand it… but I suppose it’s nice if you don’t like your tea piping hot?” Ben shrugged, dragging a hand through his dirty-blond hair and offering her a crooked smile. “Dunno. We’ll have to see how it turns out, I suppose.”

Brita laughed again, imagining a haughty look on the cat's face. "Oh, Molly knows she's the boss around your place, she can't be bothered with what little old me has to say as long as I pay my due respects." And Molly liked her well enough, she was pretty sure. Maybe it was because she sometimes smelled like young kitten, though, spending as much free time with Cinnamon as she did. "Well, try not to get into gory details involving bodily fluids until I ask for them and we'll be good. Deal?" She grinned at Ben, hoping to clear the obviously sheepish look on his face, and then at the ants. "I kind of feel sorry for the big one, but I guess they need to eat..." she frowned a little before promptly getting distracted by an earful of nose. Turning to Hank, she hugged him on his own level before surreptitiously drying off her ear on her T-shirt. "You, sir, must be very warm today," she teased him, patting him on the head again.

Ben's hand came down toward her, and while Brita almost always jumped back up by herself ("It's good exercise!"), she searched out his eyes with a smile and grabbed it on her way up, appreciating the contact. Ever the gentleman, this one... "Thanks," she said, a little softer than usual, before the moment evaporated in the summer heat.

"I could use a drink after that run," she admitted, realizing her usual water stop had been just a little ahead before she'd run into them and that she was likely to be dehydrated. Hardly setting a good example for her students like this! "Ooh, interesting method! A hot day like this one seems a good time to try a method that doesn't involve boiling, doesn't it?" she grinned, gesturing at the panting dog beside them. "Hmm, I guess it saves energy, though--I think Muggles are all about that because their electricity is expensive. And it's probably quite beautiful watching the color deepen in the sun. Or you know, I actually heard some flower teas they have in Asia aren't supposed to be steeped in super hot water! Or maybe," she paused, eyebrows raised a little, "it's just supposed to remind you that sometimes good things are a long time coming?" Brita wasn't trying to push a metaphor, but once it was out she couldn't help but think maybe she'd latched onto something there. She had a hard time focusing on anything that wasn't the here and now, and it usually meant that she mostly saw things in their immediacy. Getting to this point in their friendship, though, seemed like something long in the brewing, especially when she thought about him finding her half-drowned on the shore of the lake at 12 years old.

"In any case, I'm sure it'll be good as long as the base tea is good, right?" she reasoned as they neared his street, shaking off the slightly embarrassing memory. "Hey, I think those people painted their door again. Wasn't it yellow last time? Maybe someone got on their case for not having a proper staid color, it's slate-colored now..."

ooc: <33 merry christmas

“With those ‘due respects’ being a scratch behind the ears and the occasional rousing round of Chase the Ball of Tinfoil,” he grinned, “I’d say you’re good in her book.”
Ben chuckled in response to her request and nodded. “Deal.”

She had taken his proffered hand, to his pleasure. The feel of her smaller hand in his was comforting and – literally – warm, their respective somewhat sweaty palms notwithstanding. Ben couldn’t say he minded, in any case, whether it was from the July heat (likely) or a sudden rush of nerves (also possible) or a combination of the two. For a wild moment he was tempted to see what happened if he didn’t let go of her hand… but decided against it and released her on the premise of reeling Hank back in, as he had decided to wander a bit too close to a street vendor’s food cart.

Heartened by her optimism, Ben grinned sideways at her. He was about to comment but withheld it in the interest of hearing her talk; listening to her thought process and watching it unfold had always enthralled him. While most people tended to keep their stream-of-consciousness to themselves, Brita oftentimes seemed to do the opposite, verbalizing her train of thought as she skipped from one tangent to another and usually bringing the whole topic home to a more profound interpretation. She certainly didn’t disappoint today. He shook his head slightly in disbelief.
“How on Earth do you do that?” he murmured, a corner of his mouth curling with amusement – and admiration.

The pair made their way leisurely through Diagon Alley, turning a corner to bring his street into view just a few blocks down. She asked a question about the tea and he nodded slowly, thinking.
“That’s what I figure,” he agreed, but was distracted by her next comment, completely unrelated to the discussion at hand. Ben hid a small smile and took a moment to admire the door himself. In truth, he hardly remembered what it had looked like previously – unless it pertained directly to either human or animal behavior, anatomy, or physiology, small details tended to escape his notice. Yet another example of her stopping to observe the little things that made him appreciate her that much more.
“It looks nice, I think.” Ben wracked his memory for the exact shade of yellow that its predecessor might have been. “Though it’d be a shame if they’d been forced to change it,” he ended lamely, wanting to acknowledge her observation but not really having anything intelligent to say about it.

Once they were a block away from his flat, Ben unclipped Hank’s leash, letting the big dog snuffle around in – and doubtless pee on – the hedges one last time. Drawing his wand once they reached the outside door, he glanced over at her and raised his eyebrows inquisitively.
“Ready to try this Muggle-fashioned tea? I hope it brewed at least halfway decently…”
He playfully bowed her inside, gesturing up the narrow flight of stairs leading to his actual front door. A quick, piercing whistle signaled Hank to come bounding over and across the threshold and Ben followed a step behind, closing the door behind them.

[[ anddd that’s a wrap on our end! ]]

"Hey hey, it's difficult to stay in Molly's good graces, don't disparage alll the hard work I do staying there," she teased. "Hank's hungry, is he? Are you sure I can't buy him a sausage? They can't be that bad for him. I've always wanted to see a pup dragging one of those huge chains of link sausages behind them." Brita laughed, although she would never actually feed Hank something that was bad for him.

Catching the murmur, Brita grinned at him. "Takes a good deal of practice," she said airily before laughing. "Everyone does it, really. Most people are just too self-conscious to let it out. But I figure, if you don't have anything to hide, and you're not bothering anyone, why not let it out? People should know that not everyone spends forever thinking before they come up with something to say, and sometimes, people don't have very coherent thoughts at all," she said in a jokingly self-deprecating way.

"It's okay, you don't have to have remembered," she laughed. "I think it was kind of nice last time, too. Like a sunflower. The slate is well-chosen, though. I just like bright colors," she laughed, gesturing down at her running gear, in black and hot pink. "Or maybe I just like it when people reflect bright colors."

They approached Ben's flat, and Brita laughed. "I'm sure it'll be nice, regardless. Anything's good with good company, right?" She smiled at him softly, then bounded up the stairs, though she waited for Hank to barrel through first. This had turned out to be a rather nice coincidence after all.