{l a y m e o n t h e g r o u n d} reed

There was a mutually silent agreement that there were things she wasn't willing to talk about. She had a tendency to follow her own moral compass and sense of justice. There was plenty of gray area in her line of work, she'd found, though not so much that she'd betray the things she fought so hard against. She figured Reed understood that but he wouldn't be him if he didn't ask. He was opportunistic like that, she thought fondly. At one point in her life that might've been something she held a grudge against him for, though that wasn't the case so much now. She knew herself enough to realize she was willing to bend the rules for him, at least a little, though she took care not to spoil him too much.

She did have issues with being put into situations that put her sworn oaths at risk, of course. There was only one exception to that rule and it was simple really. She'd never let someone get hurt if she could stop it, no matter what it was she had to do. If her protective instincts were to be used against her on purpose by someone she cared about it would be devastating to her. "Not anything exciting or useful." she said softly, a smile curling her lips.

"Well, that's too bad," Reed replied over his glass of water, that same smirk playing off his eyes as always. While he hadn't thought she'd offer up anything useful to him, he still had to ask. It was a part of his job, sure, but it was also his insistent need to know things that he shouldn't. Reed was nosey, curious, and usually clever enough to weasel information, it was part of what made him good at his job.

"Guess I will just have to keep what I know to myself then," He set his glass down and took another look at the veritable buffet they had on the table, deciding what to eat first was a bit of a challenge when there were so many good options. In the end, he decided on some pita and made sure to take his dear old time preparing it before taking a bit, just in case Roslyn was interested in his bait. Reed was always looking for some way to leverage what he knew against what someone else was aware of.

In Reed's world, information was the most valuable of currencies.

She was of the mind that they would've gotten into trouble together in, in school, if she hadn't taken being a prefect so serious. There was a lot more room for grey area in her life as an adult, than there had been in her Hogwarts years. Back then everything had been more right and wrong, only she hadn't understood that right or wrong really depended on your own beliefs more than anything else. With life experience came the realization that good people could do bad things and bad people could do good things. What had been more difficult, though, was the thought that good people could have good intentions and still end up doing those bad things. She simplified where she stood by holding on to one vital thing she couldn't abide by, which was one person hurting another person. Didn't matter to her the why and perhaps that was idealistic of her but she refused to relinquish the thought.

"That's not very nice, is it?" she quipped, grinning, because out of the many things they had in common being nosy and curious was chief among them. She wasn't sure if he had anything interesting for her, but she was always willing to barter some work gossip in exchange for world gossip. Her mind flashed briefly to the photo's Cam had ... relieved from the Prophet and wondered if anyone had caught wind that they were missing, yet. He was a good lad, and the Prophet was bloody useless with stupid gossip. She'd like to keep herself and Harlan out of the papers if possible. The headlines alone would give her a migraine, she was sure, even though nothing of interest happened. Fergie would give her his disappointed badger face, of course, and she dearly wanted to avoid that. "Cant I even get a hint?" she asked, curious, as she raised her brow and grabbed another olive.

"A hint?" Reed tsked his tongue at her playfully before taking another sip from his glass. He was stalling, it was all a dance, really, and Reed knew every step. "Come now, Roslyn Hayes doesn't take shortcuts," Not only had the pair known each other for quite a long time, nearly twenty years now, but Reed had the pleasure of knowing more than just one side of Roslyn. He knew she was and had been, so much more than this current version of herself. This badass Auror witch that could best anyone in the pit and sling spells he'd probably never heard of. He remembered when she was a nosy Prefect, getting in everyone's business and taking things way too personally; though she was still nosy, Reed just minded less now.

So he felt comfortable saying things like that to her, teasing her even though he had no intentions of flirting. Unless she turned the conversation that way, of course, Reed wouldn't say no. In addition to being able to out-duel half the wizards in the ministry and eat half her weight in carbs, Roslyn was also unbelievably good-looking. Reed was stubborn, self-serving, and not looking for a commitment, but he wasn't blind.

"How about a challenge, instead? If you win, I will tell you secrets, and if I win, well... you can give me something of your choice." Reed finished what he was chewing on and reached into his pockets for a cigarette, thankful that this was one of the last restaurants that didn't care if you smoked where you ate. "You mind?" He asked because he wasn't an absolute heathen and then held her stare for a moment. "Keep your eyes on me," he began, smiling in that cheeky way that he did.

"How many exits are visible from where we are sitting?"  Reed's favorite game was a great way to gauge just how aware someone was of their surroundings. He knew the answer; the front door was obvious, but Reed always picked this table specifically because he could see down the kitchen hall toward the back exit, and he wondered if she had noticed.

"I like the easy way!" she protested playfully, a wolfish sort of grin on her features. She liked easy just fine, actually, though working hard for something certainly had a bit of an appeal. Damn Reed knew it, too, but she wouldn't be herself if she didn't protest.

She also could not resist a bloody challenge. It should really bother her more that he had her pegged. (It was sort of pleasing, though, that he knew her that well, too)

"Something of my choice, eh?" she asked, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Go ahead." she murmured, teal gaze flickering over towards the cigarette, before her eyes refocused at his words. She leaned forward expectantly, drawing her shoulders back a bit, as she fluttered her eyelashes playfully. Might as well start using all her advantages now that the game was on. She wasn't above using her assets as a distraction, especially not when she knew Reed could be annoyingly resistant to such things when he wanted to win. It was a bit of a game in itself, actually.

At his question, though, she narrowed her eyes. Bloody Slytherin was sneaky, though. He hadn't asked how many exits there were just how many were visible from their vantage point. Obviously the main entrance was one but it wouldn't be Reed if it were that simple. There had to be a service exit somewhere and from experience she knew those tended to be through the kitchen. (Hadn't she just sneaked out through one a few weeks ago herself?) She couldn't see anything behind Reed which meant maybe... and suddenly his request to keep her gaze on him made a lot more sense. Awareness flared in her teal eyes even as she held Reed's gaze. "Two." she said confidently, without looking elsewhere.

She wasn't entirely certain there weren't more but considering there weren't any behind Reed it seemed reasonable there was one somewhere behind her and she doubted there was a third in the same direction. Two seemed a safe bet and Reed was paranoid enough to favor a table where he could keep an eye on the exits without having to turn around too much.

Reed licked his lips before balancing the unfiltered end of the cigarette on them, the dry paper clung to his lips, and he reached for his wand. As he lit the smoke, Reed watched her think about his question. He knew she’d had training with the Aurors, and he knew she was a highly skilled witch, but now he got to see how she reacted under pressure. Battling the gauntlet at the ministry was one thing; they were both athletic, they had signed up to play the game, but this was a different sort of pressure. And after such an intense workout, he was interested to see just how fast she could regain her energy, even if it were only mental stamina.

“That’s one,” Reed held up a tattooed finger as he counted allowed and made ready for the next question. Two was the correct answer, and he smirked at her. “Indeed,” The wizard acknowledged her win through a puff of smoke that billowed up and above his head. He’d always preferred this restaurant because of its clear sightlines and lack of a floo. It was too cramped for a proper hearth, but Reed had seen crazy things done in small spaces plenty of times when it came to Diagon Alley.

“How many diners have their wands sitting on their tables?” The questions became increasingly more complex as Reed took another drag from his cigarette. These were the sorts of this his department was specially trained to notice. Risk assessment and critical details were like breathing for Reed, natural and habitual.

A certain heat flared in her eyes as she leaned forward, eyes trailing along his fingers like a hunter on a gazelle. It should annoy her more, that he knew her well enough to have her hyper-aware of, well, everything. She couldn't help the little thrill that made the hair at her nape stand on end. (She'd always enjoyed the rush of an adrenaline high. Physical activity certainly got her going but so did a good mental workout. Sometimes a good verbal exchange could be almost as good. She really needed to rewire her brain so that challenge didn't automatically translate as something pleasurable.

The anticipation in their little game, though, had always been enticing.

A smile curled along her lips and satisfaction glimmered in her eyes before she ducked her head and looked up at him from her eyelashes. She ran a heeled foot along the seem of his calf just light enough that it could be taken as accidental if it wasn't for the sudden heat and challenge in her eyes. His next question was infinitely more complex, however. An abundance of confidence in your ability was usually the type of mentality that made situational awareness difficult. Most Aurors tended to be lulled into a sense of security because they thought, quite incorrectly, they were the most powerful in any mundane situation.

For her, though, she tended to favor a quick threat-assessment wherever she went. She always assumed there could be a threat and so that's what she looked for. For example she'd determined the man who was having lunch three tables down had both a wrist holster and an ankle holster, the outline barely noticeable over his robes. He'd made a movement with his right leg when they'd walked past and her eyes had been drawn, like a moth to flame. Other than him the only other 'threat' was actually Reed, at least to her anyway, but she'd always been quick with a wand. The problem was, though, that it left her a little blindsided by his question.

She tried to recount how many people were sitting even as she made a considering noise in the back of her throat and took a sip of her drink. The man she'd been concerned about hadn't, of course. She studied Reed carefully, zeroing in on his mouth and the cigarette hanging between his lips and she had her answer. It might not necessarily be accurate but it would be true, at least. "Everyone that's smoking, I'd wager." she said mildly, with a bit of a raised eyebrow. She hadn't smelt smoke but that didn't mean much, considering she was hedging her bet on a hunch as opposed to painstaking observation.

Reed was sure from the look on Roslyn’s face that she didn’t know the answer outright, and that pleased him, but he couldn’t hide the surprise on his own as she came up with a most clever solution. A lesser witch might have huffed and given up or tried to cheat, but Roslyn was one of the finest witches he had ever known. If she wasn’t already the most clever, best-looking, and most powerful witch in the room, Reed had no doubt she would move heaven and earth to become it. Luckily for him, Reed felt like he won either way.

“Very astute,” he said but clicked his tongue slightly because she hadn’t exactly answered his question. “Final question, then,” Reed took another drag from his cigarette and kept his eyes firmly on hers as the smoke billowed between them. “How many employees are there?” Reed knew she’d seen the waitress at the counter, the one shuffling plates to tables, the busboy, and the chef, but he wondered if she’d pegged the man in the corner. He wasn’t dressed in a uniform, and his responsibilities had nothing to do with the culinary arts, but he was on the payroll just the same. Reed wasn’t the only dodgy sort that came to this restaurant, and security was at a premium. 

Finishing his cigarette, Reed pressed the end in the ashtray and resisted the urge to light another so quickly.

There was a certain level of satisfaction at having surprised Reed. For one, it was a difficult endeavor, for two well ... she loved to unleash some form of cleverness on the unsuspecting. If she wasn't so much a Gryffindor, well, Ravenclaw house would have suited. She'd always wondered about it, too, how different she'd be if she'd been sorted with the eagles. Her love of books might've eclipsed her need to be of service, she supposed, which seemed like a door closed in her opinion. Her first years as an Auror had been brutal, the years after the war even worse, but she found she wouldn't change it. It helped that she knew she had a life full of a new adventure once she felt like retiring, however long that took her.

She'd have felt rather flattered if she knew exactly what he'd been thinking. As it was, it wasn't entirely hard to guess, especially when she parsed through the flickering in his eyes. It was always a difficult thing, to gauge what was going on in Reed's head, primarily because of the stoic mask he threw on like a beloved cloak. "I aim to please." she quipped, teal eyes glittering, as her mouth settled into a half smile, the corners of her lips twitching. She hadn't not, answered it either. Since he hadn't protested overmuch she figured her cheekiness had softened him. Reed was a man that could appreciate it, after-all, which made this ever more enjoyable for the both of them.

She remained quiet as she stared into his eyes, not letting her gaze trail on the billow of smoke, and telling herself not to get distracted by his very very smart mouth. She turned the question around in her head for a moment. Between the people who'd made their presence known she could add one person to the list, the chef, which resulted in at least for people. She didn't think the kitchen was large enough to have more than one person, she reasoned, but wondered if that was the trick or not. Obviously the answer was a number at least four or more, otherwise Reed wouldn't ask. The trick with trick questions, she supposed, was knowing they were a trick to begin with so that you could comb through the layers and arrive at the truth.

She could tell there was something she'd missed, some small thing that a frequenter of this particular establishment would have picked up on due to familiarity. She had been a bit surprised she hadn't seen... an enforcer of sorts. Usually these types of places had someone who could regain order if people made ... questionable choices. Bar settings, for one, always had one. Not exactly security and definitely not an off duty Auror but, well, muscle all the same. She thought on that, as she took another sip of her drink, face leaning on her hand, as her fingers tapped her cheek in thought. She didn't glance around, just continued to study the man in front of her, admiring his form as she thought. Reed usually gave her time to think, and she wasn't particularly bothered by the silence of it. For someone who could speak as much as she did, she quite enjoyed quiet time to reflect.

It was either the kitchen was fuller than she thought, or she'd somehow missed the ... hired help. Four, or five, then. "Do I get a hint, if I ask nicely?" she murmured, quirking a brow, and playing with the rim of her glass.

Over the years, Reed had learned that he enjoyed watching Roslyn work. He liked the way her brain seemed to click into place, how she assessed situations, and how clever she was at solving problems. Adaptability was a rare trait, even for an Auror, and he knew it. It was about more than just being the most powerful or the most intelligent; it was about being able to maneuver even when you weren't. And while Reed had little doubt Roslyn could best him intellectually on any given day, he was confident he had the upper hand right now. And yet, she persevered, and his crooked smile grew.

"Depends on how nice you plan to be?" He answered, mirroring her rakish tone and waiting patiently for an offer he hoped not to be able to refuse. Despite knowing exactly how crafty Roslyn was, Reed imagined she wouldn't make truly make the sort of offer her eyes and fingertips were teasing. She never really did, and it only made his respect for her grow. For some unnatural reason, the two incredibly attractive peers had not yet slept together, and Reed wondered if that made every conversation more fun.

Easily won games were boring, after all.