sgt. pepper's lonely hearts club [mary]

Everything was pink.

Flower shops, cakes, banners in windows, balloons, cards - it was all a bit too much. So, in a childish big middle finger up to all things St. Valentine, Perdita was dressed all in black. Sure, it made her look like a try hard and perhaps like she was taking things too seriously, but she'd had enough. It had even encroached on her work life. Someone had thought they were cute by going around and sticking little paper hearts to everyone's office doors. Perdy had been caught in the act of ripping hers in two.

Her strides were long as her coattails flapped behind her, making her way through the crowd as she tried her best not to look at the "love bird specials" being advertised. It made her want to vomit. Perhaps she needed to lighten up a bit but she couldn't, which was why she was meeting a friend and getting drunk in her father's bar. She was a bitter singleton and she might as well just admit it.

It had been a spectacular day and a cloudless blue sky had stretched over London for miles. The temperature had dropped now as she entered the building, lifting a hand in greeting to wave to one of the hosts she hadn't slept with. Yet. Under Perdita's arm was a bouquet of flowers. Jewel tones of deep red, emerald green, navy blue and gold. They were stunning. Just because she thought the entire thing was a load of horseshit did not mean that Mary felt the same.

More than anything, Perdy was nettled that she didn't have any plans. The lift announced her arrival with a discreet ding! and she stepped out onto the terrace of the bar. "Clive, hi," the tall witch announced with a genuine smile as she reached a tall and smartly dressed man. Clive was the head waiter and had  been here as long as Vantage Point had. "How're the kids?" Perdy asked politely and was pleased to know that little Olivia and Alfie knew their times tables and still liked to beat the living crap out of each other. "Five year olds, hey?" She joked with an eye roll.

Turning her head, she saw her date for the evening and wiggled her fingers in greeting. "Two gin and tonics, please," she asked Clive. "On daddy's tab," she announced and it made them both laugh - Perdita hadn't paid for her drinks in about five years.

Quick as a flash, Perdy was at Mary's table that overlooked the city. "Sorry I'm late," she announced as she kissed her friend on each cheek before offering her the flowers, pausing to shrug off her coat as the magically warmed air made her shiver. "Couples," Perdita explained as she pulled a face before she sat down. It felt like months since they'd seen each other and looking back, it probably had. Fixing her skirt, she blew at a lock of her hair before focusing her attention on Mary. "How are you?"


@Mary Hunt

Mary twirled her straw through the remainder of her drink, which was mostly ice by now, her chin propped up on her fist as she waited for Perdita to arrive. It had sounded like a good idea at the time--going out together rather than sitting alone at home, eating discounted chocolates (Caitlin had a date with that chap from her birthday)--but sitting in a bar full of loved up couples waiting for her friend to arrive was almost enough to want to cancel. Perhaps Perdy had gotten a last-minute date, or one of her man-friends had shown up to take advantage of her paper-thin resolve—

The Auror grimaced, to herself, upon hearing Perdita’s voice float across the room; she shouldn’t have second-guessed her friend’s loyalty like that, but it wouldn’t have been the first time Mary had been passed over in favour of one of Perdy’s bad decisions. She waved back at the leggy brunette with a bit more enthusiasm than was probably believable, but perhaps Mary could blame it on the gin.

“Hi, darling,” she greeted the other woman with a kiss on the cheek, then pulled back and felt even worse upon having a bouquet of flowers thrust into her hands. “Oh, you should have sent these to the office,” she joked, “Joe might’ve believed me when I said I actually had plans tonight.” She set them down on the table between them, somehow sadder that the only flowers she’d ever received on Valentine’s Day had come from her friends or her father.

The Arabian witch settled back into her bar stool and re-crossed her legs (she was wearing an emerald green velvet suit with strappy heels, having remembered how chilly the terrace here could be -- and in February, too). “Oh, you know, spiffing,” she deadpanned. A waiter approached with two gins on a silver tray and set them down. Mary glanced back at Perdita. “And you?” she asked cautiously, picking hers up. “I thought you might be going out with the gallery owner.”

"And have them get lost in a sea of other gifts from your admirers?" Perdita tutted playfully. "You know I hate sharing," she admitted as she was kissed. Maybe it was a bit lame that they were each other's Valentine's dates but Mary was a catch and anyone would be lucky to have them. "But you have plans for tomorrow, though, surely?" Perdy asked, smiling at Clive as the drinks were deposited before flicking her bright eyes back to her friend.

There were a lot of men in the Ministry but Perdita had worked there for three years and hadn't found anyone to date, so perhaps that was a similar vein for Mary. But she loved how her friend sounded like a 1940s housewife and she grinned. "Tickety-boo," she smiled as she sipped her drink, only to swallow and then frown.

"That's fizzled out." Perhaps that was the wrong thing to say because she and Brennan hadn't exactly ignited. "I invited him over at Christmas to meet mummy and daddy," Perdita went on. Roger was half asleep in the chair and Ella had been too sloshed to realise that Brennan and Charlie were different men. Absently, Perdy stabbed her straw at her slice of lemon with more force than necessary.

"Then I found out in the paper that the Reinhardts have a massive party on Christmas Eve every year and guess who wasn't invited," she asked Mary with a wan smile. "Then he stopped replying to my owls, so," the tall brunette shrugged as she feigned indifference when actually, she'd been really upset. Brennan could be busy as he'd said but it was common knowledge that if a man wanted to see a woman, he'd make it so. Perdita didn't chase men but she did come running when they called.

"But I'm going out a lot," she tacked on quickly, just in case Mary might be worrying Perdita would suffer a booty call related relapse. "Meeting new people and what not," she nodded as she slurped through her straw. "No hunks roaming around the offices for you?"

Mary scoffed — Perdita ought to know well enough by now that she didn’t have an admirer, singular, so the idea of admirers, plural, was downright laughable. “If ordering a Chinese, drinking my weight in gin, and listening to Billie Holiday whilst weeping is ‘plans’, then yes.”

The dark-haired witch gave her friend a thin smile.

That’s fizzled out. “Oh,” Mary grimaced, then sucked at her straw as she listened, blinking rapidly as the gin (which hadn’t been mixed properly) hit her taste buds. She grimaced again; Mary knew Roger and Ella and they were quite something to behold, especially to the uninitiated. “Didn’t go well?” she ventured sympathetically. It was on the tip of her tongue to point out that at least Perdita had someone to invite over — Mary hadn’t had a boyfriend—or anything resembling one—for a few years now and it was getting to the point she was mentally preparing herself for her unavoidable future as a lonely old cat lady.

Perdita continued; massive party, no invite. Mary had another long sip of her drink via the straw, swallowing before she spoke; “Well, narrow escape if you ask me,” she said haughtily, “he was a bit, you know.” She waved her hand about vaguely, not really sure what Brennan Reinhardt was like because she had never met him. She didn’t really need to, though; she had seen the photos, had heard the gossip, knew his family had the money — he had seemed rather like he ought to be Perdy’s type, but Mary also knew better: Perdita’s type was very different from the shiny prep school boy Brennan appeared to be. If only she could find someone who looked like they hadn’t slept nor bathed for a week and had a Gringotts vault bursting at the seams.

Mary perked up a little more. “Well, that’s good,” she said encouragingly, then laughed. “Goodness, no. All the approachable good-looking ones are gay,” the Auror lamented, having another drink of gin. She set her glass back down and sighed. “No,” she said again, more resigned. “There’s a few rather dishy chaps in DMAC, but do you think I know anyone to introduce me?” she complained, as if it was the sole purpose of her colleagues to matchmake on her behalf.

“Games and Sports does have some wonderful eye candy too, but—” she stopped, her voice having taken on a rather dreamy tone, caught Perdita’s eye and grinned sadly, “—I’m rather too busy for all of that anyway. I’m fine. I just hope Caitlin doesn’t get serious with this new fellow or I might need a new flattie.”

Perdy smiled sympathetically. "If we can swap out the crying session, that does sound dreamy," she added lightly. It made no sense at all for Mary to be on her Jack Jones for Valentine's Day but the brunette also knew not to push it. After all, there was also no reason for Perdita to be on her own, either.

Drinking her gin, she pulled a face. "I thought it went well," Perdy confessed. Brennan was as polished and polite as he ever was and she was attentive and chatty and funny...like she never was. Had she laid it on too thick and made him feel uncomfortable? Was it too soon to meet her parents? Was it just Christmas? Like Valentine's Day, Christmas came with its own set of pressures; the perfect outfit, a meaningful gift, spending time with each other's family.

"I probably spooked him," she admitted to Mary. "I even bought him some cufflinks," she snorted into her gin. "Am I being petty or do you think he should do the decent thing and return them?" Perdita would simply get a refund and buy herself some new earrings because boys weren't shit.

Perdy appreciated her friend's words and she nodded. "Perfect?" She offered Mary unhelpfully with a wan smile before she rolled her eyes. Annoyed at her current predicament, the tall witch heaved a melodramatic sigh as her bright eyes flicked to the London skyline that both women were nestled between. She was incredibly lucky. She was young, healthy, wealthy and she lived in the best city in the entire world. But alas. No one would date her. At least, not properly.

Perdita laughed. Not because she was making fun of Mary's circumstances but because she knew them well. "I can't believe no fitties have started working there since I left," she lamented. Swiftly, Perdy blinked. "Me," she announced. "Let's just sync up our lunch breaks and I'll have a chat with them," she offered to Mary with a bright smile. It was obvious that Perdita didn't have the greatest work ethic but her friend was in need. She had to help her.

Mid-sip, Perdita frowned at Mary as she flapped her hands before swallowing. "No," she told her firmly. "Too busy? Come on," she arched her eyebrows. "You date on your terms," Perdy went on, as though she was the Buddah of relationships. "You're feeling overwhelmed? Cancel and rearrange. Treat them mean," she replied in a sing-song voice as she wiggled her fingers before she fixed her friend with a look.

"I don't know why you don't just live with me," Perdy went on, resting her elbow on the table and her chin in an upturned palm as she surveyed Mary. "I have five bedrooms," she stated, like it was no big deal. "You can pick which one you like." She drank her gin. "It's close to work, a great neighbourhood, a ten minute walk from Fortnum and Mason. And it's not like I'm going to charge you rent," she concluded, wrinkling her nose as though the sheer idea offended her.

“Welcome to my average Friday night,” Mary smiled wryly.

But to more important topics of discussion — namely not her own lovelife (or lack thereof), but Perdita’s. The other witch might not have a stable boyfriend, but she at least had a stable of boys to occupy herself with — not that Mary would really want that, either. She’d settle for just the one. Not the one — but him too, she supposed. She had possibly had too many solo gins before Perdita had arrived.

Mary blinked at Perdita. “How expensive were they?” It was hard to feel sorry for the younger witch — she was pretty and well off and now she was working in the beautiful world of fashion, instead of for the drab and dreary one of government. It was the sort of life Mary could have made for herself, had she not felt a deeper calling, but sometimes it was worth daydreaming about how different her trajectory could have been had she been a little more like her mother. Perish the thought.

Perfect, Perdy said, and Mary grimaced, doing her best to immediately demonise the man in the situation for her friend’s benefit. “Clearly not,” she pointed out, a little harshly but needs must.

They were back on her lovelife — only fitting, given the day. “It’s entirely possible they—” the fitties, “—have started and have already been snapped up, or I just haven’t had time—” She smiled appreciatively at Perdita’s offer to lunch together. “I think we should just do that anyway,” she said, sipping at her cocktail. “I miss our catch ups,” she confessed.

Mary heaved a sigh. “I think that’s my problem,” she told Perdita. “If I do go out on a date I’m usually exhausted and absolutely not putting on my best show. But if I cancel or postpone too many times, well, it looks more like I’m avoiding them.” She shook her head. “Maybe the powers that be will just drop someone in my lap and I can stop this beastly process altogether.”

The Auror let out a laugh — a little unkindly, she realised quickly as she covered her mouth with her fingertips. “Sorry, darling, that’s a jolly offer but...” she raised an eyebrow pointedly; the last thing she wanted was to be trapped in her bedroom because Perdita had a gentleman caller. “When was the last time you went a consecutive week without one of your boys dropping by unannounced?”

Perdy's smile was soft at Mary's comment. She could sympathize with her friend. The tall brunette often flip-flopped between doing everything she could to get a boyfriend, to drinking wine by herself and admitting defeat. It absolutely wasn't worth it but that didn't mean she didn't want it. It was frustrating, really.

"Expensive enough," Perdita replied swiftly, never particularly keen to talk about money, her bright eyes flicking past Mary's shoulder to the London skyline beyond it. She was quiet for a moment as the realisation sank in. It was definitely her, not Brennan. This was somehow her fault, like it usually was, but the corners of her full lips upturned into a gentle smile. "Quite right," she changed tack and clinked her glass in agreement against her friend's.

Perdy gave an eye roll. That was plausible. "I really don't miss that," she told Mary with a quick laugh. Whenever a passably attractive young man walked in, he soon became the topic of discussion. Then obsession. And, once or twice, a fight. Swallowing her gin, she nodded eagerly. "Yes please," she stated. "Wednesday?" She offered as she fished her small diary out of her bag. "I'll be your lunch date," she told Mary playfully, her eyes flicking over to the Auror and she paused. Mary was a catch and she was definitely out of Perdita's league.

"You don't like it?" Perdy asked, a hint of surprise in her tone. "Getting all dolled up, meeting someone new, having a fun time?" The entire thing really was beastly. It was a hard slog and a lot of effort but dating did have a few high points. She laughed again. "Please ask your powers for me, too," she teased, though she did actually mean it.

Perdita tried not to take offence to Mary's laugh but her eyebrows did come down in a rush to furrow, creasing her smooth forehead. Leaning back in her chair, she let out a huff that ruffled a lock of her dark hair. "It's just the one boy now," she corrected Mary gently, as though that would somehow make her trainwreck of a lovelife any more excusable. "And it's been a while," she admitted, remembering hers and Torrence's massive blow up that still made her feel physically sick.

There was a beat of silence. "Said boy isn't Charlie," Perdita blurted out, feeling the need to explain the situation because Mary knew how mangled she'd been after the musician's departure. Perdy thought of Charlie now as a friend - sort of. He was a genuinely alright bloke and Heaven forbid, Perdita might actually be fond of him. She cleared her throat. "Not that it matters," she went on casually. "He's more twisted than the last one," she lamented with a wry smile.

“Wednesday,” Mary repeated in agreement, a genuine smile on her lips. “It’s a date.”

The Auror sighed. “I suppose I do, but it’s also such a drag — especially after a long day at work.” Most days she wanted nothing more than to just grab a takeaway on the way home, shower, and sleep. Still, she grinned lazily at Perdita’s request. “I’ll put a word in,” she offered, propping her chin on her fist.

Mary grimaced, not exactly apologetically. “Oh, well that’s an improvement,” the dark-haired witch replied jollily — only considering after the fact that there was no guarantee on who said one was. A while. Mary sipped her gin, curious how long Perdita deemed a while. She was also deathly curious whom but it was easier not to pass judgement if she didn’t know.

Perdita removed one suspect from the lineup. Mary’s eyebrows rose in genuine surprise. “Oh?” Now that she thought about it, the gossip columns had been very quiet on the Charlie Baker front — perhaps he had fallen in a ditch, because it seemed impossible that he was keeping it in his very tight trousers.

“Well, it does matt—” Mary started, before being cut off. Oh, heavens. She groaned into her glass and finished the last of her drink. “I do think we’re going to need more cocktails,” she announced, turning in her chair to look for a waiter and wave him over. She pointed at both of their glasses to order refills, then turned back to her friend.

“Spill.”


[ out ]

Perdita smiled. She'd put Mary through the ringer and she really ought to buy her a gift to show her appreciation because no one else would deal with her bullshit with such grace and aplomb. Still, Perdy nodded along. "I understand." And she did. Perdita wanted gifts and attention but she also didn't want to put any effort into maintaining something that would ultimately wither and die. It was all rather sad. Maybe she could light a candle when she got home to help attract these mystical powers and hope a boyfriend just dropped into her lap.

The tall witch was quiet for a moment. Perdy didn't think her current situation was any better but she did feel that it was easier to juggle two men instead of one but she daren't admit that. Now, all of her time was devoted to Torrence without any distractions. She also didn't have anyone she could use to make him jealous or to run to when he upset her. It was basically just her, the dog and a bottle of Châteauneuf-du-Pape now.

She took a gulp of her gin. "It sounds like a huge deal," Perdita began, shaking her head. "But it was all rather amicable," she explained to Mary. "Things got a bit --" she folded her lips inwards as she tried to encompass Christmas week. "Weird?" She offered before she scratched her head. Things had changed between Charlie and herself in the townhouse basement and she was pleased to say that any lingering feelings toward the musician were just about squashed.

But there was more gin and heaven knew she needed it. Perdita shifted in her seat, crossing long legs at the knee as she leaned across the table towards her friend. "Do you know the Regans?" Everybody knew the Regans. Perdita cleared her throat. "Well, I know one in particular very well."


[done!]