buzzkill(er) [harlan]

april 2001

Thursdays were usually days that Honey Bea used to get Honeydukes ready for the weekend, but this particular one had been spent in London, attending a wedding convention of sorts. Many vendors were in attendance, florists, bakers, dressmakers, if it was needed for a wedding, it was there. Honey wasn't in the market for anything for herself, not by a long shot, rather wanting to get a better idea of what she would be up against if she ever followed through with her crazy idea of expanding into the wedding cake business. She already had very limited free time with the amount of work she was already doing so she wasn't exactly sure why she was even considering it, but nonetheless, there she was, glass of free champagne in hand, weaving her way through overly anxious brides-to-be and their mothers.

It seemed like every time her glass neared empty, someone was there to refill it. Surely it was someone's good idea to keep all the clients inebriated, if only to be able to sell more, which Honey had to congratulate as a brilliant marketing strategy. But it didn't take long to lose count of just how many refills she had had, and not much longer after that for Honey to stop caring. Soon she found herself not only looking at the cakes, but pretending she was preparing for her own wedding solely to be able to try on the frilly dresses she loved making fun of.

Soon the convention was winding down, but Honey had slipped way past tipsy three or four glasses of champagne ago, and she didn't want to stop any time soon. She knew the easiest place to get a free drink in London would be at Will's flat, but it was late, and she hadn't told him ahead of time that she might be dropping by. Not one to want to inconvenience the people she was sleeping with, Honey decided to come up with a different plan. But even with her somewhat impaired cognitive abilities, she figured she ought to make sure she even had any muggle money before searching for a new drinking establishment. Her current outfit and mood was definitely not suited for the Leaky Cauldron or anything back in Hogsmeade.

She leaned back against the wall to rummage through her purse, coming up empty on any sterling. What she did find was even better though: a forgotten-but-not-completely ticket to a fundraiser hosted by the Gravesend Griffins, to benefit some surely incurable disease or something equally altruistic. Anything for some good PR. And the fundraiser happened to be tonight. Now. And there was bound to be more champagne. The only complicated thing was that the ticket was an invitation from Harlan Bellamy, in return for the box of chocolates she had not-so-jokingly sent him after he had broken into her shop. She had originally fully intended to ignore the invitation; all these formalities were boring. But, champagne. Honey shrugged to no one in particular, straightening up and setting off in the correct direction of the function.

Thankfully 'wedding convention' dress code translated well for 'quidditch fundraiser' dress code. She stopped in front of a shop window to study her reflection, smooth out the one wrinkle she found in her simple, black, above the knee dress, and tuck her hair strategically behind her ear. Even in the dimly lit street, her hair was bright red in the reflection, only looking brighter from the darkness of her dress. She pulled out the invitation once more, needing it in hand to cross the magic barrier at the door. Her primary goal here was to find champagne and then find Harlan, and failing that, just find more champagne. She hadn't planned what she would actually be doing if she did find him, though she had some inkling of an idea.

Oh, this was just too perfect. Not only was Harlan still here, but people were queued up in front of him, no doubt waiting to meet him and get their photo taken with the Griffins' golden boy. The witch grabbed a full flute of champagne from a passing waiter's tray, tipping the liquid past her lips as she made her way over to join the fun. She did her best to keep herself out of sight, though she really wouldn't be able to blame him if he did notice her. She was certainly under the impression that she had brought up the average level of attractiveness in the room just by being there.

By the time it was her turn, she had finished her first glass of champagne and was halfway through her second. "Ooh, yes I'd love a photo," she answered, louder than necessary, as the photographer posed the question to her. Honey forced her glass into the hand of the eager looking girl behind her with a "Hold this, won't you?" She looked at Harlan with another smirk before closing the space between them. She slid into place next to him, offering a hushed "Sorry I'm late," as she leaned in close for her photo with the star player, her smirk now a genuine smile.

The bulb of the camera flashed and she straightened up, turning to face Harlan with her smirk back on her face. "Don't want to keep her waiting," she nudged her chin in the direction of the girl still holding on to her drink. She held in a laugh at her own, not terribly funny joke, turning around to take back her champagne and walk away, looking for her next glass.

Harlan peered darkly over the tops of strangers' heads at his teammate who had stranded him in the line of interview fire to chat up a leggy brunette in the corner of the press ring. From what he could gather based on body language, Rob's conversation was going far better than the one he was currently trapped in and the captain was not hiding his jealousy well. He shook his head, not daring to break eye contact until the older man finally felt his eyes and shot a smug smile back.

"Mr. Bellamy?" The sweaty reporter had finally recaptured Harlan's attention, the recording device for his radio show hovering impatiently next to them as they waited for a response. "Oh, sh- sorry," He fumbled over his words, his managers voice in the back of his head threatening what would surely be an unfortunate punishment for cursing at another charity event... particularly one that was for orphaned children displaced by the war.

"The rumours that you've been spotted out with the heiress to the Firewhiskey brand? Any truth? Care to comment?" The reporter continued on relentlessly in the search of a good sound bite, looking nervously up at the larger man before shakily pushing his glasses from the bridge of his nose. Harlan fought the inevitability of his eyes completely rolling into the back of his head as his arms folding across his broad chest in an attempt to close himself off. "Tonight's about the kids mate," He replied simply as the gracious hand of a Griffins employee pulled him away for photo ops before he could say anything to really make the reporter uncomfortable.

The colleague who had been hurriedly explaining his schedule for the night paused her charade to take in his attire from top to bottom, not hiding her disdain. Most guests were in black tie formal, but Harlan had opted for a simple black button down and black slacks. "Hey, I've styled my hair," The captain piped up with a smirk before she could she could speak on the matter, her expression had said enough.

As the line of fans moved through the procession of photos and autographs, Harlan fought any visible signs of boredom that he was known to be reprimanded for at events such as this. Apparently yawning didn't come across as a positive thing in the press in relation to charity events. Just when he thought things had slowed down the crowd swelled again and he lost himself in the swing of the monotonous small talk and flash bulbs. It wasn't until a familiar pair of legs came his way that he was focused again.

Honey Bea Flume. Although he hadn't forgotten that he had sent her a pair of tickets as a thank you for a rather generous box of sweets, the man was not expecting to see her at this very moment. He couldn't help but shake his head through an amused smile as she sashayed toward him, not failing to make her presence known to everyone around them. "You certainly know how to make an entrance," He whispered to her as he settled into the pose he had perfected for the last half hour.

As quickly as she had arrived, the red haired woman was gone again, but not before making a wise remark at the expense of the next woman in line. Harlan suppressed his laughter and settled for a smile, not wanting to stoke her ego too soon in the night.

For the remainder of his professional duties at the event Harlan found that he had kept an eye on Honey from a distance. As far as he could see she had come without a date and was doing some form of networking. Mainly though, that meant drinking. Almost an hour after their initial meeting, he had broken away from his handlers and escaped to the bar that just so happened to be the very one she was leaning against and conversing with a few members of the Kingsley family.

"Looking stunning, as always, Mrs. Kingsley," Harlan capitalised on the fact that the matriarch of the family that owned the Griffins had spotted him getting a drink. Careful to not spill his whiskey on her dress, the captain kissed either side of her cheek and shook the hands of her two other companions before turning to Honey with a smile. "I see you've met Miss Flume?" He took a step toward said woman to give her a proper greeting. "Shit sweets, if you ask me," Harlan whispered into their embrace.

Just then, a reporter had stolen away the Kingsley family representatives for what he could assume was their hundredth interview of the evening. "Making friends with the owners already?" Harlan nodded as they walked away as he leant an elbow on the bar to face Honey. "I see you've wasted no time tonight," He noticed that her drink was waning and immediately scanned the crowd for a waiter.

There was plenty of champagne and plenty of people in the room to keep Honey otherwise occupied. If she had planned ahead just the tiniest bit, she would have known there would have been plenty of opportunities to network, to plug Honeydukes, to tell people how amazing their children sounded when they offered them as potential employees for her. And had she known all of this beforehand, Honey Bea would not have had quite so much to drink, if any at all.

But there was no going back now, she decided, finishing another glass, doing her best impression of a sober person, her Scottish accent getting thicker with every sip of champagne she took. As long as she could remember that she was the proud owner of the premiere wizarding sweet shop and that she most definitely did not support any quidditch team other than the Griffins, it would be smooth sailing.

She fell in with a group of people who recognized her from the shop, and it took her until after they were discussing sponsorship opportunities with the Griffins that Honey slowly realized she was talking to one of the owners and quickly replayed everything she had said to her thus far, not recalling anything too terribly offensive or anti-Griffins. Good enough. The woman was focusing in so much on potential business opportunities that she had forgotten her original reason for being at the fundraiser in the first place, until the reason showed up next to her.

Harlan looked just as good over by the bar as he had before, even with the surely planned perfect lighting that had been provided for the photo opportunities. She watched as he greeted everyone else before getting so distracted by her own hello that she almost missed his whispered jab, though he moved away too quickly for her to do anything more than to silently tell him to shove off. She was almost sad to see her potential business opportunities walk away before she realized that meant they were left alone, without the queue of adoring fans from earlier or any pretense of getting her photo with him.

"Best friends, actually," she answered with a casual shrug and a sip of her drink, deciding it was best that he didn't know just how long it took her to realize who she had been talking to. "I've found that it helps if I don't tell them that their squad is rubbish." She wanted to say this part with a serious expression, but apparently the champagne in her system had different plans as a smile spread across her face, which she promptly tried to hide by taking another generous swallow.

Honey set her glass down on the bar, if only to make herself space out her sips by the few extra seconds it would take to pick it up again. "You know, the more of this I drink, the better it tastes," she said thoughtfully, motioning to the glass. "And usually I'm a bit of a lightweight but I am doing great," she swept a hand in front of her enthusiastically as if this somehow helped demonstrate just how sober she was.

Talking about her drink only reminded her of how thirsty she still was and she picked up her glass again, this time emptying it of its contents. She mimicked Harlan's search for a waiter with one of her own, but gave up after about two seconds, instead taking the opportunity of Harlan's diverted attentions to take his own glass from his hands and say a quick "Thanks," before putting it to her lips.

Even though she knew it wasn't champagne she was drinking, she was still expecting the flavor of it, and she immediately regretted taking such a large helping. The whisky burned her throat on the way down, whatever remains of a smile on her face turning to a grimace as she handed the glass back. "Nope, that's disgusting," she said looking around for anything else she could put in her mouth to get rid of the taste, be it another glass of champagne or not. What a terrible day to be carrying a purse so small that no chocolate fit inside it.

"Don't get distracted from all your mingling or schmoozing or whatever it is you're supposed to be doing," she said, finally catching the eye of a waiter with a tray of full champagne glasses. It took next to no time to take her first sip, eyeing Harlan over the rim of her glass. She straightened up as she moved her glass down, her hand reaching out to rest lightly on his arm, "I would hate to get you in trouble."

As their conversation went on, the more evident it became to Harlan that Miss Flume really had taken full advantage of the bottomless drink policy the event had enacted. It was an easy thing to do, after all. Much to the Griffins' dismay, even the captain had found himself one too many times slurring through the end of the night conversations with fans and reporters. Initially they had tried to reform his less than wholesome image but they quickly learned that fans preferred the captain at his most volatile and unpredictable -- a watered down Bellamy was not nearly as exciting.

"Well you are certainly enjoying a night at their expense," Harlan rested his chin on the palm of his hand that met the bar at his elbow comfortably. His dull grey eyes widened with interest as Honey dramatically waved her hand around in an attempt to prove her sobriety despite the fact that she nearly fell over in the process.

"Oh yes, very composed," The wizard stood up straight and mockingly prepared to keep Honey from losing her balance. His hands touching her shoulders, his body now square in front of her own. "That accent isn't helping your case, by the way," Harlan did his best to keep a straight face through the observation but failed to maintain seriousness the moment his gaze met her own. He waved his hands in front of his chest in an attempt to retreat from his own joke and combat any potential physical retaliation on her end.

Before he could get another word in edgeways, Honey's attention had shifted to his drink and she was taking down a sizeable gulp. Folding his arms across his chest, Harlan waited for her reaction despite the fact that he could easily predict the outcome of such experimentation. From a person had he noticed only liked things sickeningly sweet, there was little chance she would want more than a mouthful.

"Ha," The captain ran a hand through his long blond hair with a shake of his head. "I've done a fair bit of mingling tonight already," He explained with a shrug. "You saw that line," He justified with a grin. As far as he could tell the reprieve was well earned.

Harlan watched on with particular interest as the redhead rested a hand on his forearm. For a moment he was caught off guard by the change of pace in their banter. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, a flashbulb went off from somewhere on the other side of the bar. They had been spotted in what could be made out to be more than a casual conversation by the press. "Really?" He protested. "As far as I can see that's precisely what you've come here to do," He smiled and sat his drink down, taking a deliberately slow step toward her.

"Dont look now," Harlan began, taking another step so that his body was barely pressed against her own. "The Daily Prophet is just behind you," He whispered into her ear, one hand now resting on the middle of her back and the other her neck. Almost instantly, a series of flashes went off to try and get a good shot of what was sure to land somewhere on the society pages of various publications. He could see it now: 'Gravesend Griffin captain Harlan Bellamy caught cozying up to mystery redhead. Bethany Blishen left heartbroken!'

"You've just saved Miss Blishen a month's worth of questions about our illicit affair," He emphasised the word affair to be sure Honey knew there was no truth to his rendezvous with the Firewhiskey heir that had splashed the papers for weeks after they were seen having a conversation at a club opening. "I hope you didn't think I was actually going to kiss you," He smirked at her as he returned to leaning against the bar. He would be lying if he said the idea was not appealing but he was having far too much fun to admit it just yet.

"Yes, very," she agreed, knowing full well that he was mocking her. But he was touching her again, which she was starting to really quite enjoy. In any other situation where she had more of her wits about her, she would reciprocate, make it plainly clear exactly what she wanted, but anything she did now would just be sloppy, so she decided to ignore it instead. "My accent is a gift to everyone that can hear it," Honey nodded slowly, sweeping out her free hand in the only part of a mock bow she could do in a dress as short as the one she was wearing. "So you are welcome," she added, making a point to sound as Scottish as she possibly could, which really wasn't a far step considering how much she had to drink.

Honey took another large sip of her champagne as she listened to Harlan bargain with himself about having done just enough mingling, nodding that she had indeed seen the line. "I was there, if you recall," she said, fairly certain that he was recalling just fine the earlier events of the evening that had involved her. "And I better be getting my photograph, too." She had done a lot of waiting and drinking while waiting to get her picture taken with him and she wanted it all to have been worth it, and a souvenir photo seemed like the least they could do for her.

She saw the flash go off, but she paid it no mind. It was a lucky man that got to be photographed with her, and she didn't even have to wait in a line of women for this one. "Fairly certain you invited me, so you really should have planned ahead for your distraction," she dropped the volume of her voice as he took a step towards her, feeling the warmth emanating from him even before he was just barely touching her. He smelled nice, a warm scent to match the rest of him, and she was about to tell him as much when his hands were on her, and her mind was suddenly filled with much less savory things to tell him. Instinctively her arms snaked around his waist as she congratulated herself for having already put her glass down.

But his lips moved towards her ear and not to her own lips as she was anticipating; her face fell from the smirk she was unaware she had there as he spoke, his intent of the whole situation becoming quite clear as the flashbulbs went off. She'd have to give him credit for the smoothness of it all, but other than that? What an arse. Honey unlatched her arms from him, slowing her breathing after realizing how quick it had become. She raised a single eye brow as he took a step back, finding and bringing her glass back up to her lips to buy herself a few extra seconds to recollect herself and to hopefully give him no satisfaction for the reaction he was getting out of her.

"You don't see me gagging do you? So I was not thinking about that," Honey lied quickly, taking a large sip of champagne to hopefully get her alcohol-related blushing to blend in with her embarrassment-related blushing. "I'd appreciate some warning next time you want to pretend to kiss me, however," she continued, setting her drink down and taking a step closer to him. "Unlike Miss Blishen, I have a business I've actually worked for and a reputation that goes with it." She vaguely remembered the name from some article about nepotism in big business, and definitely not because she had recently found herself engrossed in the sports gossip section of The Prophet. Definitely not the second option.

She kept herself far enough away from Harlan to not tempt herself with anything more than casually resting her hand on his arm again. "So in the interest of both our carefully crafted reputations, there are two options ahead of us." Honey was speaking slowly in any attempt to keep her words clear and understandable and to give her brain some time to catch up before her mouth got away from her. "You can keep standing there talking to me and pretending you didn't enjoy what you just did," because she knew most people in his position were rather enamored with her.

"Or you can buy me a real drink and we can be spotted somewhere else," she gave his arm a squeeze, picking up her glass with her free hand and finishing her drink. "For Bethany's sake, of course," she added with a shrug, willing to carry on with the excuse that she solely cared for that poor girl's reputation as the reason for her suggestion.

At Honey's mention of a keepsake in return for her endless wait, Harlan became conscience of the printed photo that was clumsily folded into his pocket at that very moment. He fought the urge to touch the side of his thigh to ensure that she hadn't snatched it at any point in their conversation but resisted. The man had learned enough about her to know that drawing attention to it now would only bring him trouble. "Really?" He tilted his head in question. "From my end it looked almost as if you skipped the queue.. and made that poor, sweet, woman hold your drink," He smiled through pursed lips.

A moment later her arms were wrapped around the quidditch captain's torso in coordination with his well planned photo op. Much to his delight, she was so far going along with the uncharacteristic act on his part to toy with the press. Based on all he had gathered about the woman thus far, he was worried that Honey might have kneed him right between the legs while in such close proximity - particularly given that his advances were completely unwarranted.

As he stepped out of their embrace, his hand lingering on her neck for just a second too long, Harlan searched her expression for a tell that he had had some effect on her. He found that the normally effortlessly cool redhead was far away, her champagne intake not doing her any favours in the department of being discrete. He watched with particular interest as her chest rose, heavy with breath, while searching the bar to grab her glass and take a generous mouthful. He smiled in return although his steel grey eyes told a far more mischievous story.

Harlan laughed in response to Honey's suggestion of gagging at the thought of kissing him. "Right, how could I be so daft," He shook his head slowly, making it clear that he believed none of what she was saying. His laughing stopped, though, the moment she had taken a step toward him indicating that his little manoeuvre had only a short term effect. "Oh don't be jealous," He looked down at her, narrowing his eyes. "It doesn't suit you," He decided.

Now that Honey had rediscovered her mouth and was back to spouting out commands, Harlan focused his eyes on her before his gaze explored the room in thought. There was no way he was getting out of there unnoticed, especially now. "I do owe you a drink," He mused, reminiscing on the night that they met at her shop when she plied him with whiskey. He pursed his lips, studying her face for a moment with arms wrapped across his chest. Harlan weighed his options and formulated a plan.

"Only for Bethany," The wizard agreed, his arms dropping to his side as he leant into her. "I'll leave out the back door," He began. "You can create some sort of distraction... you're good at that," He nearly laughed. "Meet me at Bart's in ten minutes?" Harlan raised an eyebrow as he stood back up straight, preparing his escape. As far as he could see none of his handlers were in the line of sight. "You know where it's at?" Harlan didn't stop to wait for her answer as he dipped into the crowd, leaving his drink unfinished.

Honey shrugged, not finding it necessary to let him just how he could have been so daft, missing the fact that it was more of a rhetorical question than anything. But jealous? Her? Never. What was there to even be jealous about? She had just been stating a fact, nothing else. She arched an eyebrow at him, slurring out a quick "Mhmm, whatever you say," with a little nod of her head. She was regretting her decision to keep standing close to him, though she had left out the option of leaving without her on purpose; she was having a hard time keeping track of her own trains of thought at this point.

"Yes, yes you do," she agreed about the drink, even though she had been the one to suggest it in the first place. She was pretty sure the bottle of Scotch she had opened for him in her kitchen had been a rather good one and she was under the impression that she deserved some sort of return gesture, even if the bottle would have continued gathering dust on the shelf without him. Honey tilted her head waiting for him to finally agree to her suggestion, not bothering to think about any other alternatives.

The woman nodded quickly; of course it was for Bethany, of course she could make a distraction, of course she could meet him at Bart's. "Lovely," was all she could manage to say. Normally she knew exactly what to do in these sort of situations, was always two steps ahead mentally, planning out what she was going to do long before she did it. But the champagne and the celebrity and the attraction had created a perfect storm of leaving Honey with no idea what she was doing next.

She watched him leave before she realized that he had asked her if she knew where Bart's was located, which she definitely did not. She barely remember where she was, let alone where a bar she had never heard of was, but he was gone before she could tell him as much. Honey looked around, searching for someone that could help her with directions, instead finding Harlan's unfinished drink on the bar. She picked up the glass before she could second guess her decision and tossed it back, torn between regretting her choice and feeling very warm and tingly all over from the extra boost of alcohol.

Honey neglected to create the distraction Harlan had requested, or at least do anything more than announce her exit by colliding with a waiter as she turned around, sending both him and his tray of empty champagne glasses toppling, only to be saved by a wizard with far better reflexes than she. "Oops, sorry," Honey managed to get out between poorly suppressed laughs before she hurried to the door.

The first person she found outside was helpful enough in pointing her in the right direction, and after stopping and asking a few more people on her way there, she was able to find the correct place, or at least a place called Bart's that had an obnoxious sign announcing that Thursday was not only ladies' night, but it was also karaoke night. She raised her eyebrows once she had gone inside and taken in the looks of the clientele, women in shorter dresses and higher heels than her own yet on a comparable level of drunkeness. At least if Harlan didn't show up, she probably wouldn't be bored.

Karaoke hadn't started quite yet; the music currently playing was some form of pop song she probably would have been obsessed with if she got out of Hogsmeade more often. It was loud, the lights were dim, and there were enough people that people were having to get quite close to be able to have any sort of conversation with one another. Honey smirked at the thought, finally remembering that it was ladies' night and that meant free drinks. She ordered the special, which was actually the only free one, but it had enough fruity taste to it that the rum was barely noticeable. Perfect.

She watched the door as best she could between the crowd of people, having no trouble spotting Harlan as he walked in. Thanking herself for finding the right place, she slid her free arm around his waist as soon as she was close enough to do so, leaning into him, all for the sake of being heard when she talked, of course. "My drink was free so you'll have to think of something else to get me back for my incredible generosity," and in case he needed suggestions, she had plenty.

Harlan, now successfully hidden from any Griffins related personnel, gave the teeming crowd of witches and wizards one last cursory glance over his shoulder before he made his escape through the kitchen of the hotel. The few employees that glanced up at the newcomer simply offered a nod, at most, as he weaved through the bustle of their cooking while dodging any collisions, dripping in the florescent light. The aesthetic of the kitchen was vastly different from the low-lit environment that was specifically engineered to make people feel comfortable on the other side of the swinging doors at the fundraiser. Harlan was more than happy to emerge into the city through the suffocation, taking in a deep breath of fresh air unbothered by the fact that it was from a dingy back alley.

Many times throughout his relatively new stint with the Griffins the captain had taken these exact steps to Bart's Bar just up the road from one of the swankiest hotels that London had to offer. On most nights, with a hand full of teammates in tow looking for a night at a muggle bar to keep themselves out of the papers.

It didn't take long for the wizard to reach his destination, pausing at the door upon noticing the unusually large crown that had amassed in the typically quiet locale. He cast a glance to the chalkboard sign that usually housed the drink specials for the night along with some catchy double entrendre and instead read two ominous words: Ladies Night. Harlan sighed as he pushed his way through the front door. This was certainly going to be interesting. Immediately, he was greeted with an inundation of sights and sounds; the place was packed to the brim with patrons (three fourths women and one fourth men who were smart enough to play their odds).

Grey eyes scanned the crowd for the person they were looking for and almost immediately zeroed in on the particular shade of red hair near the bar that was unique to anyone in the room. Harlan proceeded forward with purpose although he was so preoccupied by his trek through the masses that he hardly noticed the stares that his entrance had garnered. Apparently, the emergence of another man, particularly a man that was visibly overdressed for the location, was newsworthy for a few of the women around him.

"Fucks sake, this is a madhouse," The blond wizard found a comfortable spot in what he initially thought was only an embrace, happy to learn that Honey didn't seem interested in stopping their physical contact anytime soon. With one arm draped over her shoulders, his eyes narrowed at her words. "Free drink?" Harlan repeated in a tone heavy with skepticism. He dipped his head to the artificially coloured drink to take a smell. "Yuck," He commented, immediately pulling away at the confronting smell of rum and some sort of coconut. "No wonder they're giving it out for free," He continued darkly, nodding to the familiar muggle born bartender who usually took care of the player and the rest of the Griffins.

Turning his attention to the latter half of his statement, Harlan fished the paper from his pocket that he had folded there earlier in the evening. "A photo with the captain of the Gravesend Griffins?" He raised both eyebrows in jest. "I'll even sign it if you behave," His hand dropped to her waist and gave a playful squeeze before resting on the small of her back. "Besides," Harlan began. "I'm not sure you're prepared for the full extent of my idea of reciprocation," He confessed, his demeanour now only half joking and his voice impossibly calm amidst the chaos of the room.

"A beer, thanks," Harlan turned to the barkeep and distractedly flipped through his wallet in search of the bland muggle currency he kept for such occasions as this, hardly noticing the first performer took the stage for karaoke night. "I'm not staying to see these performances through," He declared from behind the rim of his drink, shaking his head as an upbeat song that he was not familiar with pumped through the speakers. Based on the crowd reaction, it was a popular choice. "You fit right in though, will you be making an appearance?" Harlan's eyes drifted casually to her dress before nodding to a pair of women that walked in front of them clad in mini skirts and heels.

Honey shrugged, "More for me, then," and suppressed a giggle, bringing her drink back up to her mouth, managing to somehow find the straw with her lips. She took a healthy sip, her straw starting to make those signature bottom-of-the-glass sounds. "I'll have to remember to have a mint, then," she said, moving her glass down, hopefully implying that he would be sampling whatever flavor she had on her lips.

"Oooh," Honey's eyes widened at the appearance of the photograph, quickly slurping up through her straw what was left of her drink so she could deposit the empty glass back on the bar; she didn't want to let go of Harlan just yet so she needed to free up a hand somehow. She took the paper from him and held it up. It was hard to see clearly with the bar's choice of lighting, but even so it was still obvious that the photograph version of herself was having quite the good time. She raised an eyebrow and, smirking, turned her gaze to Harlan as he mentioned his autograph. "Oh?"

She enjoyed the squeeze and the repositioning of his hand almost too much that she nearly missed his next comment. She felt the warmth spread from her cheeks to the rest of her face, and she was well aware that it had nothing to do with the alcohol. "I suppose there's really only one way to find out if I could handle it," she said quickly, almost forgetting to shrug as casually as she could, realizing too late that she was probably not going to come across as very smooth at all. Trying to save face she returned her attention to the photograph still clutched in her hand. "I look hot," she said with a nod, "But I do think I'll have to try to get that autograph."

Honey Bea watched the karaoke goings on as Harlan busied himself with his drink order, coming to the sudden realization that she hadn't kept on top of new muggle music since her time abroad, only finding out about popular music a year too late for it to be popular anymore. Thankfully it seemed like the man she was holding onto wasn't very in to the idea of giving a show, because the more Honey thought about which song would be perfect for her, the more she realized that she was probably just a tad too inebriated to read whatever lyrics were thrown at her. "I guess this is the wrong time to tell you I already signed us up for a turn?" She grinned and nudged his side, before quickly shaking her head. "But really I wouldn't if you wouldn't stay to watch," she leaned into him and did her best impression of dropping the volume of her voice, "I tend to like an audience."

She pulled back just the slightest bit before continuing. "This crowd is basically the opposite of what we had at Honeydukes," her voice trailed off before she sighed dramatically, not exactly sure what she was trying to imply with her comment. She did know, however, that crowd or no crowd, she was enjoying their proximity to each other, and even though she really wanted another one of those free fruity drinks, she didn't want to move. "But I guess this meeting was already different since I was invited and didn't have to break in anywhere." She grinned again, replaying once more the last time they had met. Her in her nightie, giving alcohol to a man she only knew from the papers, and the many moments of regret after he had left that she hadn't done anything more than that.

As if the powers that be could tell she needed a cold shower to bring her mind back to reality, a woman who was significantly more drunk and less graceful than the redhead fell into her, pushing her forward into Harlan, who was thankfully a very solid person to fall into, though that didn't save her or her dress or shoes from the full wrath of the woman's free fruity drink. Honey managed to get out a "Holy balls," before turning to try and help the woman, but her own friends had already swarmed around her and helped her away to find a refill for her spilt drink, leaving Honey with her sweet, sticky mess. Normally she would clean herself up with a wave of her wand, but she was neither in the right venue nor in the right state of mind to attempt any magic, and the tiny cocktail napkins she was handed just weren't cutting it.

"I guess now I have a pretty solid reason to ask if you want to get out of here?"

As quickly as Honey had leaned into Harlan, she pulled away to comment on the change of pace in comparison to their first encounter at Honeydukes. He scanned the ever growing crowd, his amusement obvious. The hums of agreement stopped, though, when his companion brought up his alleged breaking and entering of her shop. "Keep your voice down," The captain hissed. "You'll tarnish my pristine reputation," He maintained a serious face throughout the charade, only dropping character when an outside force had infiltrated their once private space.

"Oh! Fu -- Shit!" The wizard nearly spat out his drink but managed to spare Honey anymore of a mess as she collided into him. Harlan looked down at the redhead, taking in the syrupy liquid as it tricked down her dress and all the way down her legs to her shoes. Even in the chaos of the moment, he could't help but admit that she made the shitty mixed drink look even moderately appetising, which surprised him given his once absolute disgust with the mix.

Harlan couldn't help but laugh as the hoard of women flocked to their friend, completely bypassing the innocent victim in her drunken wake. With the stranger covered, he turned his attention to Honey, handing her another fistful of cocktail napkins and using the last to try and dab her forearm dry. His efforts were fruitless, though, with the thin paper instead sticking to the semi-dried concoction. He made a face. "I hope you didn't get that on me," He complained through his laughter, almost doubling over as the collision replayed in his memory, this time in slow motion.

Want to get out of here. If Honey was looking for a way to re-direct his attention, she had certainly succeeded. In fact, he couldn't even remember why he had been laughing in the first place. Harlan nodded, taking Honey's hand and leaving his nearly full drink on the bar for the second time that evening. He led the way through the space, using sheer size to break through the crowd to reach their exit. As he made his way through the threshold he was greeted with fresh air and he took a deep breath in. Crowds were exhausting. 

"I'm just a few blocks up," He nodded to the bustling street in the direction of the heart of the city where his flat was located. He gave her a moment to protest or offer an alternative before beginning to walk. Harlan had relocated to London upon his trade to the Griffins and as a bonus they had set him up a penthouse that was entirely too large and entirely too nice for him. The place was so over the top that he usually had reservations about bringing people over that he planned on seeing for more than just one night. "Holly balls, by the way?" The captain repeated her reactionary phrase with amusement.

Not long after, Harlan and Honey had entered his building and were standing opposite each other in the elevator. As he had done so many times before, the wizard tapped the space above the buttons with his wand and held it there until another row of buttons appeared, illuminated with gold and emblazoned with the last name of each magical tenant. The complex had been charmed to hide the rooms (and floors in Harlan's case), from the muggle inhabitants.

"Here we are," He let out a deep breath as he opened the door, opting to focus on the closing elevator doors instead of her reaction to his place. Knowing Honey, she would unfailingly have a comment to make. "I'll spare you a tour," Harlan called over his shoulder as he made his way across the living space to a bar in the corner overlooking the city beyond the ceiling high windows. "What would you like?" He pulled a bottle of scotch from the shelf. "Or would you prefer I run you a bath?" He glanced up from the drink he was making. "You're not sitting on my furniture in that state," He joked.

Honey grinned as Harlan took her hand, completely forgetting the drink incident just a minute before. She really ought to thank that woman on her way out, but Honey could hardly recall what she looked like, let alone the woman she had only seen for seconds. Plus, her date — apparently she was calling him that now — was in quite the hurry, and Honey didn’t find herself caring one bit. She simply nodded as he told her how close they were to his place. Again, she didn’t mind that her usual method of bringing people home with her wasn’t going to work.

She nearly snorted as he asked her about her choice of expletive. She nodded again, saying, “Like regular balls, but holier,” after her laughs subsided. Thankfully, the walk seemed much shorter than it actually was, but time seemed to slow down in the elevator. They weren’t touching anymore, which was probably her own fault with the whole “outfit of drink” thing, and she was tired of it. She took the opportunity to look him over a bit as he was distracted with the buttons, and it was pretty obvious she had been doing so as he looked back, but she just shrugged and smirked.

Honey followed Harlan out of the elevator, still taking stock of just what he had to offer. It took her a few seconds to actually look up at her surroundings, her eyes widening as she took in what she was looking at. “What, exactly, are you overcompensating for?” She nearly stumbled over her words, but she managed to get them out with a laugh. Honey’s entire shop could fit in this living room, no doubting that, and that was just this one room. And she was pretty sure there was a good chance there were other rooms. The last thing she wanted was a tour of the place; she had much other important things on her mind that could get her well acquainted with the space. She slipped off her heels, somehow still having the mind to not track through whatever spilled drink she had brought in with her.

She straightened up to follow Harlan over to the bar, but she didn’t make it too far before getting distracted by one thing or the other, the fancy plants, the fancy fireplace, the fancy coffee table books. It was just so… fancy. While Honey Bea wasn’t quite sure what she was expecting, it definitely wasn’t this. Something warm, something leathery, something musky. She shrugged to herself, being brought back to the current goings on by Harlan’s voice.

What would she like? Her face fell when she saw the bottle in his hand, realizing that he was talking about more alcohol. Her mind was still running away with the fact that she was in his flat (how big could a flat be before they stopped calling it that?) and all the possibilities that fact brought with it. But almost as soon as she got disappointed, she perked up again, coming to the conclusion that another drink would not be the worst decision. And the prospect of a bath? Yes, please.

She shrugged as he laughed, not bothered that she wasn’t allowed to sit anywhere and probably shouldn’t think about touching anything either. “I prefer standing, anyway,” she quipped back, closing the space between them. She got close to him, but not too much; he didn’t like the smell of the drink when it was still in the cup and she was pretty sure he wouldn’t like it any better when it was all over her. “I pick both.” She had a mischievous look in her eye that countered her innocently sweet smile. Her gaze flicked down his body quickly before she turned around, twisting her hair and pulling it around her neck so that it fell down her front.

“Do you mind?” It was a small silver zipper, and it would probably require a bit of fumbling on his to be very effective with it. That’s what she was hoping for, at least. “I’ve had a lot to drink,” she continued with a wiggle of her shoulders, “probably shouldn’t be left alone.” She paused a few seconds to hopefully make her words more effective before adding, “For safety.”

Harlan glanced over his shoulder, allowing a moment to follow Honey's gaze as she explored the vastness of his place, pausing at each and every painfully ornate corner. He groaned. Why he hadn't utilised the room allocated to him at the gala hotel, the captain wasn't sure, but he was certainly regretting his decision to take her back to his actual home. "This is all Griffins," He shook his head, clearly not fond of all of the luxuries that had been afforded to him. He would have been just as happy in some shitty loft with a working shower and comfortable bed, but apparently his new management personnel begged to differ. "So I suppose they are overcompensating for my playing, then," He mused, smiling through now pursed lips.

Grey eyes, misty from the alcohol he had consumed over the course of the night, watched with interest as Honey made her way to the space beside him behind the bar. Although Harlan did his best to focus on the amber brown liquid as it slowly filled the bottom of the glass, her proximity had proved to be more distracting than he cared to admit. At this point, he was fairly certain they both knew the direction the night was heading, but the building of anticipation was enough to drive him completely insane.

Just as Harlan's heart rate had almost normalised, as if right on cue, Honey made the next move in the subtle game of cat and mouse that they had enacted somewhere throughout the course of the evening. Did he mind?  He let out a laugh before humming his response, low and more guttural than intended, implying that he felt the complete opposite of minding. "No," He replied matter of factly, taking a step closer to her, and then another so that he could practically taste the strong scent of spilled drink on her. Harlan rested a hand on the back of her neck to hold the free fabric of her dress, the other working it's way with practiced precision to the zipper that ran down her spine.

"Safety... of course," He repeated, although it was obvious that his mind was otherwise occupied. Harlan took his time pulling the silver piece down the length of her upper back. He wanted to be certain that he paid attention to every inch of skin that exposed itself. Impulsively, and less delicately than intended, he pressed his lips to the back of her neck, pushing her body into the back of the bar. The room that had been quiet just moments before was now filled with the sound of bottles and glasses clanking together, bouncing along the walls. In a moment, everything had become heightened and Harlan's senses were firing at double time.

"Champagne...then?" Harlan took mental note of what he needed to bring with them between kisses placed down her back as he undid her garment. "Also," He reached a hand around the front of her neck while focusing on the back with his mouth. "I have a shower," He bit down on the delicate skin just below her ear before continuing. "Since you prefer standing," He smiled into her neck before taking a hesitant step back. At the rate he was going, they wouldn't make it much farther than the furniture of his living room. He knew that he needed to slow down. Harlan took his drink, pausing to collect a bottle of champagne and two flutes before leading the way to the master bathroom.