dynamite with a laser beam [elias]

14 april 2001

Edith Holthouse, obliviator extraordinaire, had been stuck doing nothing but paperwork for the past two weeks. She had anticipated not being given full work-related responsibilities when she returned from her three-month hiatus from the Ministry, but she had not fully excepted just how dull and tedious her given assignments would be. She had yet to use her wand for anything at work, other than cleaning her desk every now and then and changing the color of one of her coworker's tie anytime she got bored, which was quite often.

And for all of this, she didn't blame herself, not in the least. She blamed the man that convinced her to come back to work in the first place: Elias Dörfler. While Edith knew that he meant well, his caring was only adding to the feeling of being overwhelmed with work, even despite her lack of actual work to do. He had shown up to her flat that morning of the day she said she would return, saying he was merely "welcoming her back", though she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being walked to school by her mum. He had kept true to his word of eating lunch with her everyday, even though she would have preferred to stay squirreled away in her cubicle, away from happy, talking people.

At least he hadn't actually sat in with her while she was working, like she had jokingly requested that evening a few weeks ago. Sure, he popped in "just to say hi" at least four times a day, but he wasn't a constant presence. So when Elias had brought up her birthday and that they should celebrate, he offered to do whatever she wanted to do. Her perfect day would be watching a United match at a pub with a pint or four, she couldn't get this other, also perfect idea out of her head.

She definitely wasn't thinking of the pleasure of shooting her friend with a laser gun when she came up with her laser tag idea, but once she thought of it, there was no getting rid of it. Edith told him to meet her at an address in the East End at ten o'clock in the morning, not wanting to give away the surprise of laser tag before he could no longer back out. And she had picked the Saturday before her birthday, so after a few rousing rounds of tag, they could watch the United match at a pub like Edith originally wanted to do.

Edith was dressed down even more so than usual, an old pair of jeans matched with a very well-worn Beckham jersey and her usual pair of shoes borrowed from her father. She had an old backpack slung over one shoulder, with her wand, jacket, and one of her large Beckham jerseys stuffed in it, just in case Elias forgot to dress for the afternoon he didn't know he would be having. Her hands were seeking warmth in her pockets as she waited around outside the building with a large, unlit neon sign that read "Laser Combat". She had seen a group of rowdy nine-year-old boys enter a few minutes before, and she couldn't help but grin at the idea that they would be her opponents very soon.

@Elias Dörfler

Elias was thrilled to have Edith back at work. He had woken early on April 2nd so that he would have time to purchase a box of muffins and meet Edith at her flat before going into the office, wanting to ensure that she was feeling alright before facing her first day back at the Ministry. In the two weeks that had followed, it had been difficult for him not to continue to hover. Sure, she had asked him to keep a lookout for anyone who might pester or interrogate her about her time away, but he had the feeling she hadn't meant the request seriously.

The compromise had been to stop by her desk every now and then, checking if she wanted a cup of coffee or if there was anything he could do to help her out. As pleased as he was to have Edith back for their regular lunches, he had the feeling that she wasn't nearly as thrilled about her return. Elias did his best to remain optimistic, assuring her that she just needed time to readjust to full-time work, but he could see that she was bored by the office and often annoyed by her coworkers pestering her.

Failing to decipher that he might have been among the group of individuals that was intruding upon her more frequently than she would have preferred, Elias had proposed doing something special for her birthday, hoping to improve the witch's mood. After a short deciding period, Edith had presented him with only an address, insisting that the day's activities had to be a surprise. Elias felt fairly sure that even in England it was usually the birthday girl getting surprised, rather than the other way around, but he had promised to do whatever she wanted, so he hadn't argued.

The Saturday before her birthday, Elias had debated for a long time about how to dress. It was frustrating to have absolutely no idea what the day held, and he cursed himself silently for not thinking to check out the address the day before. Even so, he thought, she would probably find it amusing to give him the address only of the place where they were meeting, and then whisk him off to some strange place just to keep him on his toes. He had settled on a pair of light brown trousers and a navy blue sweater, eventually deciding that she probably wouldn't be taking them anywhere too formal. At a quarter to ten, he slipped into his brown brogues, pulled on his jacket, and carefully tucked away the small, thin box containing Edith's gift into his inside pocket before disapparating.

Unfamiliar with the area, Elias emerged with a soft pop in an alley close to the Geffrye house, an interesting museum where he had once spent an afternoon and one of the only points of reference he had for the neighborhood. Elias set off, walking south along the path he had memorized after studying the map that morning. Ten minutes later, Elias turned a corner and looked down again at the address that he had copied down from Edith, confused. The street he had just turned onto was in a thoroughly muggle neighborhood, which in itself wasn't a problem, but seemed to be host to mostly rundown businesses and a dilapidated coffee shop. The man was about to turn back, thinking he might be able to catch Edith at home since he clearly had the wrong place, when he saw his friend standing outside of a brick building a few numbers down, waiting for him.

Bemused, he folded the paper once more and placed it carefully in his jacket pocket. Elias greeted her with a smile and an enthusiastic "Happy Birthday" once he was close enough for her to notice him. As he pulled her into a quick hug, he caught sight of the sign behind her head: Laser Combat. Pulling away, he looked down at her face, suspicious of the mischievous grin that she was sporting. "What is this place?"

Ooh, finally he was here. Not that she had actually been waiting that long, but it was her birthday and she wanted to play laser tag now. She pulled a hand from the warmth of her pocket as soon as she saw him, giving a small but enthusiastic wave. "Thanks," she said, hugging him back, relieved that it didn't last too long. They had never been huggers before the whole crying incident, but now it seemed they were at that level of friendship, which was definitely new territory for her.

Thankfully they were moving right along to the task at hand. "This is the home of the amazing sport, second only to football, called laser tag." Edith held up her hands and waved them about, wiggling her fingers, all in a very dramatic fashion. "You might be just a tad overdressed," she plucked at his sweater with two fingers, grinning as she did so. She couldn't really blame him for not dressing for the occasion, as she had not exactly told him what to expect, but surely he should have assumed to be a little more casual for whatever they were doing. Edith was fairly certain she had never led anyone to believe that she was a fancy individual.

"I think it will be easier to explain once we're in there, I think," the witch said before he could protest or ask questions, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the door. Once they were inside, Edith stepped up to the little booth selling time and renting equipment. She got them all settled up, putting her birthday money to good use, and renting them each a laser gun and a vest. She grinned again as she handed the wares to Elias. "So," she started as she slipped her backpack off and her vest on. "The point is to aim at the vest with this," she point at the plastic gun blinking furiously with tiny red lights, "And shoot." She shrugged. There was really nothing more to it, especially since she had been right about the group of nine-year-old boys being their opponents.

"Just don't shoot at me," she remembered. "We're on a team. So aim for the yellow vests." Their own vests were glowing green at various places. "Depending on where you hit them you get more points, I think." She nodded, stowing her backpack in one of the provided lockers to the side of the lobby. She didn't need to mention that their competition was far, far younger than them and there were many more of them than the two adults. That information was on a more need-to-know basis, and she was surprised that she had even made it this far without Elias backing out.

At her introduction of the place, Elias' eyebrows rose a bit higher. He seriously doubted that whatever sport they were about to play could be better than quidditch if he hadn't already heard of it, but he couldn't argue with the birthday girl. Edith certainly seemed excited, and if playing this crazed muggle game was going to be the thing that got her out of her funk, then he was on board. He was determined not to let anything get in the way of a good birthday weekend for his friend, whether that was his complete bemusement as to what laser tag was or the fact that he was apparently dressed all wrong for the event.

Elias stumbled after her as he was pulled suddenly inside, doing his best to keep up with the instructions and take in as much of his surroundings as he could at the same time. He was prepared to play if it was what she wanted, but would be doing everything he could not to make a fool of himself in the process. Edith had paid for their equipment before he had even noticed what was happening, distracted by the huge but still photographs on the walls of muggles crawling among rocks and hiding in trees.

The vest and gun that had been shoved into his hands pulled his attention away from the pictured muggles in combat and Edith's spent pounds. "Shoot?" he asked, a little alarmed. He didn't know much about weapons, if he was being honest, but he knew enough of muggle history to recognize the shape of the gun he was holding. "How is this a sport?" If muggles made a regular habit of shooting one another for fun, he didn't know how the Ministry of Magic had managed to stay unaware of it. As Edith continued her explanation, his eyes widened a bit. "So -- so, it doesn't hurt anyone?" He hated to sound so unsure of himself, but he needed absolute confirmation that these vests would be protecting them somehow. He was in no mood to be sent to St. Mungo's because he was injured playing some muggle dueling game.

Edith assured him it was all for points, and he looked down again at the blinking red light that was eminating from the tip of the gun. Cautiously, he extended his hand and held it in front of the laser, relieved when it did nothing more than shine on his palm. "Well, I'm glad I don't have to shoot you, at least." Now that he was back in agreement with Edith's plans -- as wild as they might be -- he was ready to get going. He set down the vest and gun carefully before removing his jacket and hanging it in the locker that Edith had opened for them. He pulled the sweater she had criticized up over his head and folded it delicately before placing it in the compartment as well. He pulled his white undershirt back down over his stomach before adding the vest and picking up his gun.

"Ready?" He gestured for Edith to proceed before following her through the door the man at the front desk was pointing out to them. The pair had stepped into an arena of sorts: two levels and a wide variety of random obstacles, all covered in reflective tape. His eyes roved over the many pillars, staircases, and boxes and landed on a group of six preadolescent boys laughing and joking in the opposite corner, each carrying a laser gun and wearing a yellow vest. Edith's previous words, that they were "on a team" registered with him, and he turned to look at her. "We're going against those kids? Are you serious, Edith?"

Edith merely rolled her eyes at Elias's line of questioning. "It's a sport because it is," she said seriously. Honestly, how hard was this concept? People accepted golf as a sport and she had to explain the merits of laser tag? No thank you. "It'll only hurt your ego if you lose." And maybe some actual bruises from running around an obstacle-strewn, poorly lit room, but she really didn't want to ruin the surprise. She nodded a few times as it finally seemed like he was getting it: aim for the other kids, not her. Easy.

She watched impatiently as Elias took his time, putting in way too much effort hanging up his jacket. Her eyes only widened as he proceeded to lose his sweater as well, appearing to also be taking whatever clothing he had left up top with it. That was definitely not what she had meant when she had told him he was overdressed. Edith looked away, suddenly very interested in the feebly blinking exit sign across the room, only looking back when Elias spoke again. He had thankfully decided to keep his shirt on and looked otherwise ready to go. "Waiting for you," she nodded quickly and hurried ahead.

The room looked just as she had imagined it. She had only played laser tag once before, on her tenth birthday, and really all she could remember from that day was just how amazing it had all been. And so far, the reality was meeting her expectations. She grinned again, already planning the best plan of action for the two of them, which would be something along the lines of divide and conquer, obviously. And that way, it would be much easier to sneak up on Elias and shoot him, too, because even though they were on a team, Edith still had a lot of unspoken issues she needed to get out today.

But she was pulled from her planning as Elias turned to her, and her grin only widened as she realized what he was talking about. "I am so, incredibly serious." She shot him a stern look, replacing her grin with pursed lips, almost daring him to back out now. "It's my birthday." She wasn't sure if he really needed to know that she could only afford to pay for only one round for the both of them, fearing he would take it as a sign that if he backed out they wouldn't really be missing much. But for Edith, it just meant that this one round was the important one. "So just imagine how embarrassed you'll be if we lose," she nodded seriously.

An announcement came over the PA system in the room, letting them know the lights would start dimming and then a siren would alert them to start. "Too late now, Eli," Edith said with a shrug before pointing at the little hooligans across the room. "Shoot at them, not me," she reiterated. "I'm going this way, go find a good spot." She turned around, peeking back over her shoulder to make sure Elias was following instructions and finding a good stronghold.

She climbed up a series of steps, moving off to the side to find cover just in time for the lights to go, a few more neon lights to come on, and the siren to blare loudly letting them all know the game had started. The woman immediately aimed for one of the kids in yellow, hitting him square in the chest. This was all so much more satisfying than aiming actual spells at dummies or at people or at the countless things she had dealt with in her time at Hogwarts. Aiming lasers at muggle children was apparently the cure-all.

The kids broke apart and sprinted in various directions, but Edith could still hit a couple from her spot. She knew she wouldn't have too long before she would be found out, so she decided to take the opportunity to look around for Elias, maybe shoot him a couple times, then actually go over to him to help bring their team back to victory. But finding Elias was proving to be a lot harder than she had anticipated; she knew he liked sports, but she hadn't counted on him adapting to laser tag so well or so quickly. She would never admit it, but she had definitely expected him to be a sitting duck of a target.

Her vest lit up and made a whining noise as one of the boys shot her in the back. "Ahhh, you f***er," she breathed, quickly turning around and aiming a shot back at him.

Apparently Edith found the idea of battling a bunch of helpless kids amusing, but he couldn't say he agreed. There was just something fundamentally wrong about pairing two fully-grown adults capable of magic with six preteens who were clearly expecting to have fun and play a fair game. Who ran this place? And weren't Gryffindors supposed to be known for their great sense of right and wrong?

He looked back at her, torn between his spoken commitment to celebrate her birthday however she wanted and the never-spoken-but-still-probably-obvious personal rule that he shouldn't be attacking muggle children. But Edith had sworn this was a game and, given that his friend was muggleborn herself, Elias felt it unlikely that this was some cloaked version of muggle-baiting. After a moment of debate, he nodded, deciding that Edith was still in a fragile-enough place that he ought to prioritize her needs. He would just have to suck it up and help her take down a gaggle of kids in the name of friendship. He felt his compliance would be best for her happiness, and he prepared himself for the coming battle, doing his best to convince himself that winning had nothing to do with the decision to play.

Elias opened his mouth to object to separation but Edith turned on the spot and marched off before he could come up with a tactful way to tell her that he didn't want to leave her alone. It was against his nature to be focusing on offense rather than defending his teammates, but she clearly had her own tactics already figured out. It's her birthday, he reminded himself for what felt like the hundredth time since he'd arrived. He darted off but glanced back every few steps so that he could keep track of where his friend was going. If those kids started to gang up on her, he would need to be able to get back to her quickly.

Elias crouched down at the top of a staircase just in front of a column, not wanting to have to cover himself from all angles. He looked between the rails down at the course below where the boys had scattered, almost all of them having chosen to stay on the ground floor. Clearly these kids were amateurs at dueling, not recognizing the advantage they would have from above.

The sound of a horn blaring alerted him that the game had begun, and Elias looked down at what was happening below. The kids had all started running about wildly, shouting and shooting their lasers at nothing in particular. At least it was a relief to know that even if these kids had been playing against a group their own age, they probably wouldn't have done too well. They had no sense of strategy whatsoever. He aimed his gun through the railings and made contact with four of the boys in a matter of seconds. A grin split across his face as the electric scoreboard high on the wall suddenly jumped into action, numbers flying by as he watched. The other team still had a satisfying 0.

The boy up on his level hadn't noticed him yet, too occupied with stalking about and shooting poorly-aimed shots at the people below, apparently not concerned with who he hit. Elias held off on shooting him, not wanting to attract his attention, and instead looked back to where Edith was half-concealed and shooting at the kids in turn. He was pleasantly surprised to see that her aim was good; he hadn't taken her to be much of an athlete, but he supposed this was more about precision than athleticism and he didn't doubt for a second that Edith had good aim, given that a lot of her job was about firing spells at people.

When her vest suddenly lit up, Elias decided it was time to relocate. He wanted a better angle so that he could focus on the one kid who was actually making an effort to score against them. He hurried along the railing, crouched down as best he could, and shot at the kid every few steps, hitting him almost every time. This was much more fun than he would have anticipated. Another boy was creeping up behind Edith now and Elias pointed his laser at him instead, earning ten points for making contact with the center of his vest and a great deal of satisfaction at knowing he had managed to actually cover Edith this time.

Elias was settled in again at the top of the staircase on the other side of the balcony. Although it was fun to shoot at the kids from above (most of whom were too oblivious to even notice where he was aiming from), it was hardly a fair fight. Elias turned to scan the balcony again and was pleased to see that two of the opponents were now up there with him. He waited for them to look at him, made eye contact, and then shot them in succession, one in the chest again and the other in the shoulder, before scampering down the stairs. They were so far ahead at this point that he could afford to make himself visible, especially if it meant he could run around a bit more and meet up with Edith.

"Ugh, man up!" Edith yelled after the boy, who had retreated as soon as she had sworn at him, being hit from afar. "Coward," she muttered under her breath, sliding out of her hiding spot to pursue him, taking aim at the center of his vest as soon as she caught sight of him. Perfect hit. But in retaliation, the kid yelled to the rest of his friends, alerting everyone else to their location. A few of the other boys appeared out of virtually nowhere, and Edith happily took aim at each of them before retreating around the next corner, nearly running head first into Elias.

She stopped just short of tackling him, instead pointing over her shoulder. "They're all over there," she said with a nod of her head. "Cover each other?" She waved her free hand between the two of them, assuming he understood exactly what needed to happen. She turned without another word and as soon as Elias had pulled up beside her, they popped back around the corner, Edith aiming to the right, Elias to the left, their backs to each other. They were able to get at last three shots each before heading in Edith's direction, steps away from a more open area.

While the open area would have been terrible for a single person to take fire from, the pair of them were able to aim in all directions while covering the other, and by the time the siren was going off again to indicate the end of the round, the scoreboard was reflecting just how awesome they were together. As a laser tag duo, of course. They had wiped those nine-year-olds off the map, surely ruining someone else's birthday, but Edith was too preoccupied with winning to care too much about how anyone else was feeling.

"That's the only one we're doing," she said casually, heading towards the exit, purposely failing to mention that she couldn't quite afford more than what they had just done if they were going to be able to follow through on drinking later. "Are you sure you weren't really in to laser tag in a former life?" Edith posed the question with an elbow jabbed towards his arm. "That was brilliant." She stepped back into the lobby, the sudden brightness making her squint until she could readjust.

Sliding her vest off, Edith kept on. "Before you tell me how much you hated that, let me just remind you that it's my birthday." She deposited her vest and laser gun at the rental desk, though she was very close to just running off with the gun. Magic was cool, yeah, but that was a laser. Oh well; she'd just have to put lasers on her birthday wish list for next year. "And now for something completely different," she continued, opening their shared locker and rummaging through her backpack.

"Now you're underdressed," she drew out the other Beckham jersey for him to wear, which was just a larger version of the one she was wearing herself. Edith handed it over, not caring for any protest should she get one from him. "You won't want to be any more out of place than you already will be," she said as she waved it a bit. The pub they would be going to was very much a United-centric pub on match days, and she wasn't about to let any of the other reggulars know that she was sneaking an outsider in.

As he reached the bottom of the staircase, Elias' eyes locked in on his ally: Edith, covered by one of the padded columns, aimed at one of the boys, hitting him square in the back. She took off just as he was approaching, chasing the boy down as he ran for cover. Elias followed, dodging a shot from one of the kids but failing to avoid a second as he aimed at a kid who was trying to shoot Edith from behind. His own vest lit up and he cursed under his breath, picking up the pace to unite with his teammate and finish the match.

Unfortunately, Elias' valiant attempt to catch up with Edith turned into an attempt not to fall over when she suddenly changed direction and skidded to a halt right in front of him. He touched the wall to regain his balance, having been forced to stop suddenly in order to avoid a mini dogpile, and tried to focus on what Edith was saying. He nodded seriously at her instructions and followed her toward the open area in the center of the arena.

It was exhilarating. He was scanning the arena constantly, keeping track of the movements of his half of the opponents and responding as quickly as possible, shooting each kid in the vest so that their gun was temporarily disabled right as they took aim at him or Edith. He was having a hard time remembering why he had abandoned his plans for a career in curse-breaking or magical law enforcement; even though they weren't in any real danger, his heart was thumping in a wonderful way. It felt good to know he was in control and wasn't letting his partner down.

It wasn't until his laser stopped firing that Elias realized the battle was over. He turned to hug Edith, feeling particularly proud of their excellent teamwork, but was deterred when she proclaimed that they were already done for the day. "Really?" he asked, the disappointment obvious in his voice, but she had already started walking off. Yes, it was her day and all, but didn't they have time to do one more round? Maybe they could have found some older opponents to make it more of a challenge. Elias was on the verge of protesting when she elbowed him lightly. Distracted by the touch and the compliment, Elias put his arm around her momentarily and gave her a playful squeeze in response. "I guess all that dueling practice paid off," he responded with a grin. "You were brilliant, too. We make a good team." Maybe there was a league they could join. The thought excited him.

Elias followed her lead, removing his vest and placing it, alongside his laser, on the desk next to hers. "Hated it?" he repeated, shocked that she had failed to pick up on his mood. "Hardly. If you weren't in charge, I'd be signing us up for another round." Elias pulled his sweater back out of the locker and waited for his friend to reveal the next part of their day. He had it half on before he realized that what she was holding out to him was meant to be worn. Elias hesitated for a moment: he normally preferred to pick out his own clothing, and he preferred it to be new. He took the jersey without protest and pulled it over his head, stuffing his arms through quickly so that he could put his jacket back on over it as soon as possible. Nobody needed to see him walking down the street in a matching muggle outfit with Edith, no matter how much he liked her.

Edith led the way out and he followed as best he could from her side, hating to appear as though he didn't know where they were going. It was only a short walk before she turned and held open the door for him. He stepped into the smoky pub and sighed as he caught sight of the television in the corner. How many dingy muggle pubs did Edith frequent? Edith gave their name at the bar and they were pointed toward a small table with a small "Reserved" sign on it. It was situated in the back corner, but had a clear view of the screen. As he looked around, however, he saw that nearly everyone in the room was staring in the same direction and wearing the same colors that he and Edith were. He looked down again at his own shirt and realized that the logo on the front matched the one printed over and over again on the contents of the box concealed in his pocket: Manchester United. Of course.

"Now, have you already called in our drink orders ahead of time? Or am I at least allowed to buy you a drink to celebrate?"

Why yes, they really did make a good team. She decided to focus on the last part of his compliment, rather than remind him that it was actual dueling, and not just dueling practice that had made her as brilliant as she was. This was a happy day, after all. "Well I'm always up for another round later, if you want to muggle it up again." Thankfully he was at least pretending to enjoy things even if her didn't, which was good enough for her.

Edith watched Her friend don his Beckham jersey without a word, a smug look on her face. Birthday-rules-abiding Elias was fun, even if it was plainly obvious that he was no longer enjoying himself. "It'll get better, I promise," she reassured him as they left the building, taking a turn to the right and up a few blocks. The corner pub they stopped at had United pennants in the windows, but from the looks of things, Elias still hadn't figured out what was happening, which was all the better. She held open the door for him and followed him in, waving to the few faces she recognized from all their shared time in the space.

"You absolutely can buy me a drink," Edith replied with a grin, failing to mention that she had been sort of counting on him doing so if they were going to have the alcohol-fueled afternoon that she intended. "But you should know it's tradition to do shots on my birthday, and also to do shots when we get a goal," she added quickly, hoping he wouldn't point out that tradition required doing the activity beforehand, and she had never done birthday shots or celebration shots, much preferring the slow creeping buzz that beer gave her. But both she and Elias would be much more enjoyable if they got inebriated at top speed.

Still, the bartender knew her regular order, just doubling it today as she and her newly minted United supporter friend settled into their reserved table. She had to give him credit for the reserved table, too; Edith had merely mentioned that it was her birthday coming up when she was in the pub for the last match a few days ago. It was just a few minutes before the match was starting, just enough time to get their beers out of the way before they had to start throwing back their inevitable celebratory shots.

"So if United win here, and Arsenal loses, United will take the Premiership title, so today is a pretty big deal." Edith nodded thoughtfully, taking a large sip of her beer. "Unfortunately," she continued, looking genuinely sad, "Beckham isn't starting. They're saving him for Wednesday's match." She didn't bother to explain the importance of the upcoming Champions League game in Munich, nor did she really want to get into that now. And she wasn't sure if Elias had yet noticed that he was wearing a Beckham jersey, number 7, though she was definitely sure it wouldn't have mattered to him at all if he did know, despite her many efforts to explain Beckham, and football in general, to him.

Finally the match was starting, and Edith's attentions were split solely between the television and her beer, with the occasional glance towards Elias to make sure he was enjoying himself the proper amount. It didn't take too long for the first goal; in the tenth minute, United was already behind. Damn. "I forgot to mention," Edith said, turning to Elias after she was finished groaning at the screen, "That we also do sadness shots." She was up and at the bar before she could hear any protest, if there was one, and was back with two shots of tequila before the match was into the eleventh minute.

She knocked back her shot after a quick and proper sad "Cheers," turning her attention back to the screen just in time to see a United striker take the ball and run it upfield unchallenged, bringing the score back to a tie not two minutes after they had fallen behind. "Oops," Edith said with a grin, the taste of her last shot still on her lips as she motioned towards the bar for their next round of shots. "Celebratory ones now," she reassured Elias before quickly drinking her next shot and sucking on one of the lemon slices they had been so generously provided. This tequila she felt, though it was probably the first shot finally kicking in. Either way, Edith was definitely enjoying her birthday so far.

Elias' satisfaction at finally being granted permission to buy something for his friend dissipated quickly when two drinks arrived at their table before he had even stood up to place an order. He wasn't usually unhappy about the arrival of a beer, but he really had wanted to treat her for her birthday. Resolving to simply pick up the tab when they left, since that was apparently the only way to buy Edith a drink, Elias lifted his glass and flashed a smile before taking the first sip. He glanced over at Edith as he set his glass down and saw that she was still going, apparently determined to finish her drink quickly. He was always impressed with how much alcohol she could take; despite their difference in size, she could probably out-drink him, as he'd never been one to take things to excess.

As Edith began describing the particular importance of this match, Elias did his best to pay attention. She had explained the way the game worked before, and though it didn't sound nearly as interesting as quidditch (where was the fun if there was only one ball to keep track of?), he felt he had done a decent job of keeping up in the past. Despite his efforts to keep up with today's briefing, however, Elias found himself more engaged with the way Edith was talking than the actual words she was saying. It was clear how much this mattered to her, how excited she was about the prospect of her team winning the title. He would have to do a better job in the future, maybe actually start following the sport, so they could talk about it.

The match started, and Elias turned reluctantly toward the screen, his thoughts still caught up on the prospect of future football conversations with Edith. The game started slowly with a full ten minutes passing before there was a goal, giving him plenty of time to sip at the beer Edith had pre-ordered for him. He had been slightly apprehensive about the idea of taking a shot with every United score, but now that he realized how long it apparently took the players to get a point, he was less concerned. Edith was up and at the bar in response to the goal before he could argue, so he drained what was left of his beer and accepted the shot that she handed to him.

A quick sniff told him he had just been presented with a shot glass of tequila, which was definitely not his drink of choice. Hoping for a low-scoring match, Elias took the shot after an unenthusiastic "Cheers" and set the glass down again with a little shake of his head. No sooner had the taste cleared, however, than another round of shots had arrived at their table in response to Manchester's first goal. He was pleased to see Edith so delighted and took the shot without complaint, matching her and placing a slice of lemon in his own mouth.

Having consumed three drinks in twenty minutes, Elias was already feeling lightheaded, content to be sitting with Edith watching a bunch of very tiny people kick a ball around on a screen. All the same, his responsible side was reminding him that it wasn't even noon and that neither he nor Edith had eaten lunch. "I'm going to put in an order. Would you like anything to eat?" He was asking to be polite, but Edith would be getting some food regardless of her answer. Elias stood up carefully, pleased to find that he hadn't yet had enough to drink (or simply hadn't waited long enough) to be feeling unsteady, and made his way through the crowded pub back to the bar.

The room was noisy with the sound of the announcers and the chatter of the guests, most of them drinking with their lunch. He had to raise his voice a bit to be heard, but managed to both place the food order and instruct the barkeep to put all of their drinks on his tab. He made his way back to the table and confirmed that he hadn't missed anything important in the few minutes he had been gone.

The game was back to low-action, so Elias took a sip from one of the glasses of water he had brought back for the pair of them. He sat watching the screen for a while, but the lack of scoring and bludgers led him to turn back to Edith eventually. "How did you choose Manchester as your team? Are your parents very into football?" He knew very little about Edith's family but felt it was only fair that he learn a bit, given that she knew a fair deal more about his.

Manchester scored after a while, and Elias couldn't help smiling. They weren't 'his team' by any count, but he was still wearing a Manchester jersey and therefore was pleased that the team he had adopted for the afternoon was performing well and in the lead. The next round of shots was delivered along with their food, and Elias took the shot quickly before unwrapping his silverware and cutting into the first sausage on his plate. He looked up after a few bites to check on Edith's progress, but she was absorbed in the game. "Eat your chips," he reminded her, looking expectantly at her until she put a few in her mouth. He didn't want her birthday ruined by over-indulgence.

"No," she responded to the question of food, adding in a quick "Thanks," not taking her eyes off the screen. After football and alcohol, food wasn't very high on her priority list. She could Elias stand and walk away out of the corner of her eye, but she was much too involved with the football going ons to pay too much attention, so she was a bit late with her halfhearted "But get whatever you want." She wouldn't have noticed his return, much too absorbed in the match, if she hadn't caught sight of two glasses being set on the table. She turned expectantly, about to offer her very sincere thanks, before noticing that the glasses were filled with water. Disappointing, to say the least.

While Elias hadn't really missed anything when he had left, and there wasn't exactly a lot happening on the field, that wasn't a sign for him to stop paying attention or an invitation for him to strike up a conversation with her. She raised her eyebrows as she turned towards him at the sound of his voice, missing all but his last few words. “Do they what?” She shook her head to clear the football bleariness and the alcohol fuzziness aside, realizing what he had asked without him having to repeat himself. “No, actually they hate it.” She shrugged as she took a sip of beer, checking that she still wasn’t missing anything on the television. “They said that the only proper form of recreation is theatre.” She rolled her eyes as she sighed and rested her chin in her hand.

“Our television went out one day so I went next door to see if I could watch something but they were watching Liverpool at United and even that seemed better than nothing, so,” another pause for a sip of beer and a glance at the screen. “Red was my favorite color so that was that.” She pinched the fabric near the shoulders of her jersey between her thumb and forefinger, drawing attention to it just in case Elias had failed to notice the bright red color of their matching shirts.

She turned back to the screen just in time to see a narrow miss on goal by the opposing team; she threw her hands up to her forehead in a combination of frustration and disbelief as she watched the ball soar towards the goal, nearly missing knocking what was left of her beer over with her elbow. That was too close, both to the goal and to the beer. Thankfully Elias had taken this as a sign to stop asking questions and there was no risk of her missing the next attempt on goal, this time by United, and this time successful. She clapped her hands together a few times along with the rest of the crowd, only taking her eyes off the screen long enough to look around for their victory shots, which arrived very promptly, along with some food she didn’t remember ordering or wanting.

Edith was much more interested in the tequila, however, and after throwing back the shot and making sure her friend had done the same, she refocused on the match. She could feel the warmth in her face, spreading out towards her ears, and took a long, slow blink, trying to recall if the was the third or fourth shot. Her train of thought was derailed when Elias spoke again. She looked up at him, whatever he said had gone completely over her head. He motioned towards the plate of chips as he looked at her, and she responded with a quick, “Okay,” before picking one up and eating it obligingly. That was followed by another one, and then a few more, and by the time Coventry City tied up the match five minutes later, she had finished them all, just in time for what was announced as their fourth round of shots.

“This sadness shot is not making me sad,” she said with a slow nod, marveling at how heavy her head felt as she moved it. She glanced at the television to ensure that she wasn’t missing anything before looking back to Elias with a grin and another nod. “I think that one was more tequila-ish than the other ones.” And apparently the chips had done nothing to soak up any of the alcohol. Normally, Edith could handle her liquor fairly well, but she didn’t usually take four shots of tequila in twenty minutes. “Aren’t you hot?” She tilted her head at him, eyeing the jacket that he had yet to take off, slow to realize that what she said could be misinterpreted. “Jacket, I mean,” she added quickly, looking anywhere but at Elias.

She picked up her previously untouched water and drained half the glass, though it did nothing to lessen the warmth in her face, half there from the alcohol, half from whatever she had just said. He was hot because of the jacket, not hot in another sense, not like that, not Elias. She nodded as she agreed with herself, her gaze falling back on the television.

The confused and slightly exasperated look on Edith’s face at his question told him right away that he should not have assumed permission from the birthday girl to start a conversation. All the same, he couldn’t bring himself to regret annoying his friend a bit when she started talking again. He chuckled lightly at her dramatic eye-rolling, pleased to know that he wasn’t the first to fail her in the realm of football fandom.

As she reached up toward her shoulder suddenly, Elias followed the path of her fingers instinctively and watched as she plucked the fabric away from her skin momentarily. How had he not known already that red was her favorite color? She loved Manchester United and Gryffindor; he should have guessed. Tucking the useful tidbit of information away for when he might next need it, Elias opened his mouth to ask what Edith thought of theater. Unfortunately, Edith’s attention had been reclaimed by the television set, so he reluctantly followed her gaze and kept his mouth shut.

The sausages were a bit sweet for his taste, but the mediocre food was just one of the things he had grown to accept about living in England. It was worth it anyway; the company here was excellent, and there were plenty of ethnic food opportunities in his line of work. He smiled at the sight of Edith popping her chips into her mouth with increasing frequency, finding the visual evidence that he had been right to insist on her eating something much more engaging than the official entertainment.

It wasn’t until two more shots arrived at their table that Elias realized that there must have been another goal. He looked away quickly from his friend and took the shot, wondering how long he had just been watching her eat. All the extra work over the past few months, what with the dome and now the upcoming summit, was clearly affecting his attention span in a weird way.

Elias offered only a grave smile in response to her comment, glad that he was occupied with sucking on his lemon and thus unable to reply. All the shots had been equally tequila-ish as far as he could tell, though the awful taste was bothering him less than it had when he’d started. The change was probably due to the fact that he was now on his fifth drink in less than half an hour.

“What?” he replied automatically, confused less by her comment than her sudden embarrassment. But Edith was now draining the water he had brought her and determinedly avoiding his eye. Hopefully she wouldn’t make herself puke. He pulled off his jacket, recognizing that he was definitely warm enough now from all the drinks not to need it. Thank goodness at least one of them was focused; he probably would have sat there sweating through the entire match if she hadn’t pointed it out.

Now that his jacket was carefully hung over the back of his chair, he noticed the number on the sleeve of his jersey: 7. Since Edith didn’t seem interested in talking, he tasked himself with spotting the matching player on the field. But the image kept changing quickly and Elias was having a hard time determining whether he’d checked the jerseys of everyone playing yet or not. Would Edith have given him a jersey from one of the alternates as some kind of weird joke? He couldn’t say that he quite understood her sense of humor all the time, but he supposed that was part of what made Edith interesting. She wasn’t so easily understood as most of his other friends, and certainly less predictable. No matter how well he thought he knew her, she could surprise him.

By the time the whistles blew and the players were running off the field, Elias felt sure that there was no player number 7 on the field. He looked over at Edith as the commentators declared it to be half-time. “Are we allowed to talk now?” he asked her with a grin. “I’d offer to get us a drink,” he nodded over to where many of the patrons were using the break to crowd around the long wooden bar and order refills, “but I have a feeling we’ll be getting more shortly anyway.”

Edith glanced sideways at Elias as he removed his jacket, pleased to see that he hadn’t taken what she had said the wrong way. Despite trying to be covert about her look towards him, she couldn’t help but turn her head at the sight of the Beckham jersey, realizing she had never noticed how big his biceps were. That thought only led to her wondering if she had ever seen him in short sleeves, deciding that if he had a few tattoos he could give Beckham a run for his money.

The image of a shirtless Beckham popped into her brain, but that image was quickly replaced with her best imagining of a shirtless Elias. Edith’s eyes widened as she realized what she was thinking about and she hastily looked away, staring at the television but not seeing anything. Elias wasn’t David Beckham. Elias was Elias, her best friend, and they both definitely always kept their clothes on. Thankfully, there were still about ten minutes left in the half, which was plenty of time for her to forget the embarrassment at her thoughts, for her face to go back to its regular alcohol-induced warmth and blush.

She turned back as the halftime commentary commenced, making a point to look no where else but Elias’s face. “Yup,” Edith returned his grin as she nodded slowly, “We can talk.” She wasn’t about to apologize for being absorbed in the match, and she shouldn’t have to. Plus, it was her birthday. She got to do whatever she wanted. Her grin widened at the word ‘drink’, only to fall back to it’s original size with the word ‘but’. She shifted her gaze toward the bar, frowning at the number of people at the bar. “Yeah,” she agreed halfheartedly, though she was unsure of when the next goal would be and if she could stand to wait that long.

At least the crowd at the bar meant the toilet should be free. “Two minutes,” Edith said with another nod, pushing her chair back and standing up. Any speed with which she stood up would have been too quick, and it took her a few seconds to remember the reason for doing so in the first place. After a slow blink she cleared her throat and nodded, her head feeling exceptionally light and fuzzy as she walked away. She successfully avoided running into anyone or elbowing anyone’s drinks out of their hands as she made her way across the bar.

Things went as planned until her walk back to the table, when she was nearly knocked over by a man abruptly turning around, narrowly missing her with his beer. After mutual expletives were exchanged, he offered her an apology, along with an invitation to join him in a drink. Either the scarcity of such an offer or the alcohol fuzziness took Edith aback, but whatever the reason, she couldn’t accept. She pointed towards her own table, though it was difficult to see it through the crowd, and explained that she was with someone.

She wasn’t sure what made her answer in the affirmative his question of if that someone was her boyfriend, but her mouth was responding more quickly than her brain. Surely it was just because that answer would be the only acceptable one, the only one that would let her leave the awkwardness of this encounter behind. She put on a fake pout as she apologized and hurried away, pushing her way back through the people to slump down into her chair next to Elias.

He probably needed to know what had just happened, in case the guy had followed her or decided to show up later, so that he would be able to play along with the whole story, right? She grinned and laughed, figuring that if she made it clear that this was all a joke, things wouldn’t be weird. “I just had to tell this guy that you were my boyfriend so he would leave me alone.” She said this quickly, wringing her hands together underneath the table. “So play along if he comes back?” She grinned again, once more shifting her attention to his jersey, shifting her gaze back up once she realized she was admiring how it looked on him.

Despite her agreement to have a conversation, Edith had jumped up from their table before Elias had even had the chance to choose a topic. All the same, he nodded agreeably as she requested a few minutes alone, and he watched her head off toward the back of the pub, where he could only assume the WC was. Elias used his time alone to gaze around the pub, watching the football fans crowd around the bar, the more determined drinkers using their elbows to maneuver their way to the front of the queue. One of the burlier men had managed to butt in front of two women waiting to place their order, and Elias looked on disapprovingly as he caught the barkeep's attention and was promptly handed two beers.

When the man spun around abruptly, clearly a bit unsteady on his feet, and nearly collided with the suddenly-reappeared Edith, Elias decided it was time to make his way over and join the scene. But as he set his water glass down, preparing to intervene, he caught sight of his friend already making her way back over to their table. He had no idea how she had managed to arrive back on her own, but Edith was already sitting back down at their table, grinning at him strangely. It was baffling that she could recover so quickly from an encounter with such an outwardly-threatening man. He wondered for a moment if she had obliviated him in order to orchestrate her escape -- it was something she joked about often enough that he had to wonder if she did a bit of unofficial work after-hours.

Elias' eyes widened at Edith's pronouncement, all thoughts of law-breaking behavior cast from his mind. "What do you mean?" he asked immediately, the concern obvious in his voice. "Was he threatening you?" He looked back over at the bar, but the man in question had apparently gone back to his table and Elias couldn't spot him right away. He had felt badly about that man as soon as he'd seen him; and just Edith's luck that she should come into contact with him. It was a good thing, really, that Elias was there. Who knows what might have happened if she hadn't been able to take shelter at their table? He could see the anxiety in her eyes and felt a surge of protectiveness again. "Don't worry," he told her, trying to be soothing. He had to be calm for her. "I'll make sure he doesn't bother you again."

The match resumed shortly after, but Elias was barely watching. His eyes were scanning the room every few seconds, alternating between Edith's face (Did she seem relaxed? Did she trust him to do whatever it took to make sure she felt safe?), the other men in the bar (He had finally spotted the man in question and was making no effort whatsoever to disguise the fact that he was watching his every move), and the screen, where his eyes would jump back to any time Edith fidgeted or glanced his way. He had to maintain his interest in the match, or at least feign it, if he wanted to make sure she got the enjoyment she deserved out of watching United play.

The arrival of David Beckham onto the pitch and two more goals for Manchester seemed to cast all thoughts of the other man from Edith's mind. Elias' mental circling of the room was put on hold when Edith let out a little clap of delight at Beckham's arrival and gestured wildly at Elias' own jersey. He looked down in surprise, taking in again the number 7 on his shoulder, which he now saw matched Beckham's. It was both surprising and strangely pleasing to realize that his fears of some kind of practical joke from Edith had been completely unfounded: it was obvious now that she had reserved the best jersey for him. He smiled at her, baffled by his own insecurity and relieved at the indication, however subtle, that Edith had chosen to honor him in that way.

Despite his efforts to eat and stay hydrated, the two shots of tequila that followed in quick succession left Elias feeling a bit dizzy and tingly even as he sat still in his chair. He wanted to go up to the bar for more water, but was nervous about leaving Edith alone when she was clearly drunk and the man in the corner was still glancing their way every few minutes. He focused on his own focusing, trying to will the alcohol not to affect him. He wanted his wits about him in case the other man caused any trouble for them before Elias could orchestrate a quick escape: he was hoping the promise of presents might be enough to pull Edith away from the smokey pub.

The end of the match brought loud cheers to the pub and a wave of relief to the German. Edith was thrilled, getting caught up in the celebrations around them. He recalled her earlier statement about winning the league -- he knew it was a big moment for her team, and a wonderful thing for her birthday weekend, but it seemed like maybe they would do better to celebrate in private. That was the only way he could be absolutely sure that none of these other drunk men would take away some of her birthday euphoria. Elias stood up as she did, pulling their jackets from the backs of their chairs, doing his best to subtly and respectfully hint that they ought to be going.

Before he could catch her attention however, the man Elias had been monitoring for the last 45 minutes appeared suddenly beside her. He was grinning at her widely, trying to get a celebratory hug in like many of the other fans around their table. Elias stepped forward at once, placing himself behind Edith, a bit closer than he would normally stand. He nodded carefully at the man before turning to Edith. "Are you ready to go?" He asked, looking at her meaningfully. Without giving her a chance to answer, however, the other man stepped closer, holding out a shot.

"Don't listen to him, doll. You should be celebrating!"

Immediately, Elias had swung Edith's jacket around her shoulders and stepped right in beside her, closing the space between them defensively. His arm rested gently but obviously around her waist, sitting as comfortably as if he had done this a thousand times before. "She's already told you she can't join you for a drink," he replied calmly, doing his best to keep the various and conflicting emotions he was feeling under control. Edith had asked him to play along, and he was fully committed to the role; he couldn't let whatever confused things all the shots were making him feel get in the way of protecting her and getting her out of this weird situation.

“Oh, no, he was fine. Just,” Edith shrugged, either not wanting to or not knowing how to explain the thought processes that had gone through her brain to make her say that they were together. Clearly Elias wasn’t finding the situation as hilarious as she did, nor did he seem to understand that this guy was not out to get her. He had probably just found the whole situation absurd, because who wouldn’t? First that some guy in a pub wanted to buy her a drink, then that Elias was her boyfriend. Yes. Absurd. “Thanks so much,” she replied sarcastically, though with the number of shots she had consumed, her words probably didn’t make her sarcasm very obvious.

Thankfully the match was back on before the entire situation had the opportunity to get even more awkward and she could turn to focus all her attention back on the television set. Still, nothing exciting was happening. No one on the field was David Beckham, no one was scoring, no one was bringing Edith tequila. Maybe she should have let the stranger buy her a drink. She would have had to have what mostly likely would have been a very uncomfortable conversation, but at least she would be drinking.

Every few minutes she would look back towards her friend; why wasn’t he trying to interrupt the match with inane questions any more? If she had made him feel so weird with the lie she told the man earlier, he would have left, right? Why hadn’t he bought her any more drinks lately? Did he forget that it was her birthday? But every time she looked at him, she saw his jersey, just to be reminded about how great it looked on him, which only restarted the circle of doubt and conflicted feelings.

But finally, there he was. David Beckham was finally in the game. Edith wasn’t the only one to be happy about the situation; her claps of excitement were lost within some other applause and a few cheers around them. She turned back to Elias and gestured at his jersey before pointing back at the screen. “It’ll be better now,” she said with an excited nod, meaning that now the team would be more pleasing to look at, but also sort of meaning that maybe some scoring would happen now. Edith wasn’t ready to start sobering up.

It only took about ten more minutes for her wish to come true as United scored again, bringing the score back into their favor. She grinned before she threw back her shot, grimacing after. Still, this fourth - fifth? - shot was so much tastier than the first one. She only had to pay attention to the match for a few more minutes before she added another shot to the count. By this point, there were only a few minutes left of the match, United was up by two goals, and if not for the fact that one was on television, Edith might have confused Elias and Beckham. The jersey fit both of them very well, but Elias’s was easier to admire due to his close proximity.

Though it wasn’t more than a few seconds, Edith felt like she had been staring at him for ages. She coughed, quickly pointed at her empty and overturned shot glass as if it had been tequila’s fault, and returned her gaze to the television. The last few minutes ticked by quickly and Edith was quick to join everyone else on their feet and clapping towards the screen. The win, the league title, the birthday, the tequila, everything was amazing. Actually amazing. Surely she would have been happy without all the alcohol, but the copious amounts of it were definitely helping.

The woman hugged at least three strangers and was just about to hug her fourth when she heard Elias pose a question from very close behind her. She dropped her arms back to her side as she realized that the man offering the embrace and the shot was none other than the guy from before, and she was pretty sure that she did not, in fact, want to hug him. But he had alcohol. But Elias wanted to go. But it was her birthday. Edith flip flopped from one decision to another, but before she could arrive at anything final, Elias’s arm was around her waist.

What. Was. Happening. They had hugged, even when she was sober, but she was absolutely sure that hands always stayed above elbows. She fretted about this for at least three seconds before realizing that this was exactly what she had asked him to do. Not some weird, unspoken desire that Elias was finally acting on, that Edith was realizing was actually sort of nice. It was all part of the lie she had told this guy during halftime, that Elias was her boyfriend. And he was doing a really good job at pretending.

“Yup. Can’t join,” Edith agreed quickly, returning Elias’s gesture. She angled her body towards him and wrapped both arms around his waist, interlocking her fingers on the other side. She looked back to the man still offering the shot as she tried to stifle a laugh. He merely stared at the two of them for a few seconds before drinking the shot himself and turning back to his own group of friends. Edith grinned, so proud at their clever and successful ruse. “That was brilliant,” she congratulated him, and though it would have been easier to talk to him if her mouth wasn’t making near direct contact with his chest, she didn’t loosen her grip from around his waist. It was strangely comfortable and it was definitely the alcohol that was convincing her to keep going. Definitely.

But they had said they were leaving, so they should probably do that instead. She unwrapped herself from him and finished pulling on her jacket the rest of the way, clearing her throat as she looked anywhere except at Elias. She heard him say something about settling their tab and would meet her outside, so that’s where she headed. It was still early; her original plan had been to drink and watch the match, then continue drinking when the match was over. But they had done a day’s worth of drinking in ninety minutes, and somehow wandering aimlessly down the street seemed like as good an option as any.

“Let’s go this way,” she said as soon as Elias joined her outside. She wasn’t looking for anything and had no destination in mind. She did know, however, that the jersey wasn’t having quite the same effect that it did previously when he wasn’t wearing his jacket. “That was fun,” she added casually as she started walking, not thinking twice before interlocking arms with him and slipping her hand into the pocket of her jacket.