[paris] midnight city. [harlan]

"Depends who's wearing it," Erika replied, equally as cheeky. She wasn't the first girl to wear his jersey and she doubted she'd be the last. Quickly, she snorted, clamping a hand over her mouth as the booze finally kicked in. "I know," she grinned at Harlan. "I've read them," she rolled her eyes. "How many times have you been named Sport's Most Eligible Bachelor?" She asked him, an eyebrow raised. "Eight? Nine times?"

Harlan decided to talk so helpfully, Erika took the bottle back and drank. She'd forgotten he'd become an uncle a while back and she smiled sympathetically. "How is the baby?" Erika assumed baby-like - blowing spit bubbles and launching their food at the wall - but she wanted to be polite.

She shifted, an arm resting on the back of the sofa and her hand in an upturned palm. "You made the team?" Erika asked with a smile, reaching out to gently punch him on the shoulder. "Atta boy," she grinned. "I knew you could do it." So, he was managing both teams. "No wonder you're tired," she said gently but when put on the spot, she laughed loudly.

She held her hand up, palms outwards in the universal symbol of surrender, before she shook her head. "Nope," she said quickly before she drank. "Just because you're with me on a Friday night," she grinned back, the tip of her nose wrinkling. "Not that I'm not flattered," she was quick to correct herself, a hand placed over her heart. "Don't you have, I dunno," she flapped a hand through the air.  "Somewhere you'd rather be?" Erika asked as she handed him the bottle with a hiccup.

"Hmm," Harlan deliberately and as obviously as he could manage in all of his tequila induced haze, took his time to look her over in his jersey. "Not the best," He teased after chewing the inside of his lip. Erika knew him well enough to know that he was only giving her a hard time for the sake of it. A lot of their banter had to do with just that. In some ways, at least personally, it was how he showed he cared about someone, in some fucked up backward way.

"Please, would you not remind me," It was ten times, and he only knew it because Madeline had done just that almost every year the lucky eligible bachelor was being named. Absently, he nudged her shin with his thigh with no real force behind it, more as a means to manifest how he felt about the whole thing. "Fucking nightmare..." He said, almost to himself but his eyes caught hers.

Valerie. Even the mention of his niece and he visibly softened, a smile pulling up at the corner of his mouth more genuine than before. "She's lovely," He said with a breath. He hated how vulnerable it felt to care like he did but he couldn't help it.

"What's wrong with being with you on a Friday night?" Harlan quirked an eyebrow, thankful for the excuse to not dwell on the sentimentality in his chest for too long. "I don't," He added as a response to having somewhere better to be. He could have, really. He could have many places to be, but none that he really wanted. "I could say the same to you," He nodded to the discarded popcorn bowl.

"Haven't got a Prince on the line somewhere exotic?" Erika was always all over the world. It wasn't hard to imagine she had the men lined up. She always had, anyway.

Unable to help herself, a little squeak of indignation escaped her as her eyes widened. Quickly, she laughed. She twisted her body in order to pluck the cushion she'd been leaning on and threw it at him bodily with surprising force. "Rude!" She laughed again.

With an eye roll, she settled back, wriggling under her blanket to stay warm. "Me thinks he doth protest too much," Erika said with wide eyes as she drank from the bottle. "You love it," she teased him, flicking his knee as he bumped her shin. "Who doesn't want to be adored by thousands of people?" She asked, almost sounding wistful. "You'd never be lonely unless you wanted to," she shrugged. Unless he had eyes for one person in particular. That'd explain a lot.

Harlan visibly melted at the mention of his niece's name and Erika couldn't help but grin. "Well, that's adorable," she told him with a smile curving her lips. "Look at you, you big softie," she joked, waggling an index finger at him. And here he was, freaking out about becoming a godfather when he was easily a great uncle. Once upon a time, she would have given anything to be called lovely by him.

"Nothing," she replied quickly with another shake of her head, sending blonde hair flying. Harlan looked at the upturned bowl on the floor and she offered him a dimpled smile. "Clearly, none of my plans fell through," she joked before deciding to be honest. "I didn't really fancy going out," she admitted. "No offers were as nice as sitting on my couch," she shrugged before she snorted.

"The best I ever did was a baron." Her tone was playful but it was almost true. Then the penny dropped. "Oh!" She smacked her palm against her forehead in realisation. "You mean Luka?" Erika grinned. "He's a count," she said casually, as though this was a normal thing to happen. "He's great. I haven't seen him in a while but we're due to meet up soon," she nodded. "The villa in Dubrovnik was getting an overhaul and he said he's excited to show me," Erika told Harlan, oddly coy as she smiled and traced patterns on her blanket. "He's cute. I like him a lot. He looks sensational in a pair of swimming trunks," she added as she fanned herself with her hand.

"Me," Harlan answered plainly as he wrested with the pillow Erika had just thrown in his direction, ultimately tucking it under his arm and leaning into it. Once upon a time being adored was something that truly had driven him but he had learned the hard way more than once that the public would just as quickly turn as they would devote themselves. Avoiding investment in that sort of thing had kept him sane as he'd gotten older. There was a subtle art in grappling with the ebbs and flows that came with a profession in the public eye.

The wizard made a feeble attempt to swat down the finger she wagged at him as she cooed something about him being a big softie, though there was minimal effort behind the action. In fact, he couldn't even wipe the smile from his face if he wanted to. He couldn't remember being that way with Simon's sons, but perhaps that was because he knew them as kids at present. "Is that a bad thing?" Harlan bit down on his lip in a wince. Trust Erika to tell the truth, anyway.

Harlan rolled his eyes, resting his temple on the outside of his knuckles that were closed into a soft fist and wedged between him and the back of the couch. She certainly led a life that not many did. Part of him was jealous and the other part of him was exhausted at the thought of it. "Has your father prepared the dowry, then?" He teased with a grin that mirrored her own. It was nice to see her light up at the mention of something, even it did have to do with the way the man looked in swimmers.

Involuntarily, he stretched into a yawn. Checking the time, he let out a resigned huff. It was later than he thought."Mind if I stay here?" Harlan had stayed there before, under different circumstances of course, but he really couldn't be bothered to floo anywhere in his state. "Swear I'll stay on the couch," His eyes narrowed and his mouth pulled up into a grin. "Quite comfortable, really, this," The tall man stretched out to invade the space on her side of the couch, shifting to untuck his shirt and making himself more comfortable than he should have been allowed. 

fin

"I think you're mad,"  Erika replied but not unkindly. "I'd love to have people screaming my name," she said wistfully as she twirled a lock of hair around her finger. She could understand Harlan's reservations - the bigger they were, the harder they fell. Then again, he knew what he was doing when he entered the sport. It was popular, people were going to see him, buy the merchandise, follow his exploits. "Sounds like having your cake and eating it, too," she smiled.

"No," she answered his two-prong question. No, him doting on his niece wasn't a bad thing and no, not wanting to go out wasn't bad, either. Quickly, she snorted. "Me? Married?" Erika gasped, a hand on her chest, looking thoroughly affronted before she grinned. "Monogamy is a lie, you know that," she said patiently before she shrugged. "You can't get a dowry if you're priceless," she joked, only to let out a yelp as Harlan unfurled on her sofa.

"Not at all," Erika said politely. Her sofa was comfortable and they'd both had a lot of tequila. As Harlan pushed her off the seat, she took her cue and stood, hands on her hips. "You better," she warned him darkly before she laughed, having every faith he wouldn't be creeping around her apartment; he'd been her a few times, he knew lots of things were boobytrapped.

"Hold on," she told him as she bounced into her bedroom and after a rummage around, came back with some pillows and clean clothes. "Don't know who these belong to," she admitted, nodding to a soft grey tee shirt and a pair of shorts in case he wanted to change. She held out the items for Harlan to take before neatly dragging the blanket up and over him, effectively tucking him in.

"Don't be expecting breakfast," she announced with a tut and a shake of her head, knowing full well she'd end up making something. She retreated before she stopped, leaning against the door frame, arms across her chest to look at him for a moment. Realising she was staring, she cleared her throat. "If you need anything, you know where it is," she said casually as she offered him a dimpled parting smile. "G'night," came the bright and eventual response as she closed her bedroom door behind her and leant on it, letting out a breath she wasn't aware she'd been holding.