{I h o p e y o u d o n t m i n d} ash

What was she doing? (And why was she feeling so guilty about it?) With an agitated sound akin to a struggling animal Roslyn strode into Ash's apartment heaving a truly startling amount of breakfast items, not giving herself the chance to second guess her intrusion. It was her birthday and she'd decided that she was just going to be selfish about it. Even though she was angry at Ash for being an edjit. She made sure she made extra noise as she banged around his kitchen, stomping, because she felt rather put out. (Read: guilty) She managed to set the table without incident before she huffed, irritable, and stomped towards the closed bedroom door.

If he had someone in there with him she was going to breath fire. "I swear I am going to blast this door down." she threatened, brandishing her wand, and willing herself not to cast something that would actually blast the door down. She reasoned that would be overkill especially since she'd yet to try a single unlocking spell. She muttered an 'alohamora', somewhat disappointed when the door clicked open for her. Well it served him bloody right for keying her into his wards.

Taking a peak inside the brunette softened, her ire bursting like a popped balloon with no air, as she studied the man curled up against the sheets, asleep. In direct opposition to her actions thus far the Auror quietly made her way by his bedside and gently sat down. She resisted the urge the brush his hair away from his face, feeling guilt well up in her chest again, as she caught sight of the ugly red healing marks on his arms and collarbone. She gnawed on her lip, pushing past the mounting anger again at the sight of them, and blew her breath out gustily. "Whatever am I to do with you, ya edjit?" she murmured, amused, when she noticed his breathing change.

Was he pretending to be asleep? The pillock. "Wake up sleeping beauty, I brought second breakfast. I'll eat it all, too, if you don't join me at the table like a proper gentleman." she muttered, digging her fingers against his uninjured side in an effort to make him squirm.

@Ashley Morigan

Ashley had always been a light sleeper. This was not by accident. It was training. Growing up, Ashley and the rest of the Morigan clan had always been in dangerous situations, with dangerous creatures and beasts around every corner. He knew what was out there and what those things could do. He knew what haunted the streets of wizarding London, what, and who. He would never leave himself vulnerable. Clothing, items, even expensive toys could be replaced, but he could not. He had a strong survival instinct. Had Indiana been home, however, it would have been significantly exaggerated. He heard the lock click at his front door all the way in his dreams, and instantly awoke. What was that? 
 
His eyes opened quickly, but his bedroom door was closed. No point in looking, he wouldn’t be able to see a thing. However, as he heard the rummaging in his kitchen and the sighs of his coworker, he breathed in silently. If it was an ex-lover, coming to steal all his gold, she would find very few sickles at her fingertips. Anything good was kept in the bedroom closet, anyway, behind a false wall. Someone might have called in paranoid if he let them in on the secret, but his privacy was paramount. He knew things, had seen things, had done things that some people couldn’t believe or imagine. He had a collection of first-edition books passed down through centuries. He had stolen a few, too. Not only that, though, but the weaponry he kept was impressive and almost scary to someone outside the family. Why would he possibly need so many daggers, arrows, types of shotguns? He wasn’t hunting game, though, and anyone who saw his collection would know, too. 
 
When he heard her finally speak, his tension relaxed. He released the pistol he had been gripping under his pillow and stashed it quickly back into its position under the mattress. A friendly meeting, then. Why not give her a little bit of a go. He pulled the covers over his head and snuggled in, feeling a bit cheeky. She wouldn’t hurt him. She was a good cop, tough and talented, but she was a teddy bear as far as he was concerned. She wasn’t a threat to him, had no reason to be. But why was she here? 
 
He hoped she had at least thought to put on the kettle, or better, the coffee pot. He was injured, and deserved at least a little bit of a break. No work on the weekends, not at this new day job type of thing. Well…. no work was hard, but he figured that no legitimate work sounded suspect, despite being precisely that. He was tired of being on this ministry probation, and wanted his freedom back. Unfortunately, after the report that Roslyn had most likely written about his injury, he would be put on even longer. He was good at his job, but that didn’t mean everything went according to plan. He was a quick thinker, tended to wing it and get lucky. Though, was it really luck when you were working with the knowledge and training that he had? Indiana was the bookish planner. Ashley just took care of business. 
 
As she came in quietly, a contrast to the way she was in the kitchen, and sat down gently on the side of his bed. He let out the soft little sleepy sound, for effect. He might have overdone it, though, in his playful way, as she seemed to catch on he was sleeping. She dug her fingers into his uninjured side, a mean tactic if he had to say so himself. She knew he was ticklish there. He squirmed a little under her hands, and rolled over, trying to fake a yawn but laughing too much. “Ros, what’s with the racket? It’s my Saturday.” It was Wednesday, actually. St. Patrick’s Day to be precise. As an American who was not of much, if any, Irish heritage, it was naturally one of his favorite holidays. He enjoyed any holiday that was centered on food and liquor—and Irish whiskey was the best kind. He had plans. Well, plans to go to the bar later, get plastered, and use his injured shoulder to get sympathy from pretty women. Ros was not part of these plans. Unless she really, really wanted to give him her sympathy. She was on his bed, after-all. 
 
“You should know, it’s not proper to break into a man’s apartment.” He laughed a bit. “Besides, I’m not decent.” He offered teasingly. “I’m not wearing trousers and my shirt’s off. Unless you really want to see all this,” he motioned down his bare chest, “you might want to let me at least grab my jeans.” 

He was lucky enough that she had thought to put coffee in the pot. She knew him enough to know he didn't really function very well without it. Even if it was coffee bean water swill, in her expert opinion. Tea was by far the more superior drink. She'd be drowning her cup in Irish Cream, just to start off the day right.

With a bit of a flush she realized she hadn't really mentioned her birthday happened to fall on St.Paddy's. It seemed a big error to fix at this point and she didn't want to get into it so she just grinned instead. "It's St.Paddy's - the greatest day of the year!" she said, prodding even more, as she shot him a bright smile. "I brought second breakfast and we can drink that swill you call coffee with some Irish cream and have a morning." part of it was her desire to check up on him, the other half that she didn't feel comfortable asking him to join her group when he was injured. She knew he'd just ignore basic wound care and just spend the time with them. He'd have a good time if he didn't rip open his wounds, and that wasn't something she wanted to risk.

She hoped if she fed him, got him drunk enough early enough, he'd call it a day early and fall asleep for a nice rest after she left. She'd still get to spend time with him and check up that he was alright, he'd get some St.Paddy's celebration brought to his door, and just everyone would win. He didn't need the added knowledge that it was also her birthday.

"You want to talk about proper and decent do you?" she asked, eyes narrowing into angry teal slits. At his next words her eyes roaved her his torso and downwards, heat warming her face for a moment, before her eye trailed upwards again. "You said that like its some sort of problem." she smirked, eyes lighting up in mischief. She so enjoyed a good tease, she couldn't quite help it. Ashley Morigan was brutally hot and he knew it - there was no reason she couldn't appreciate an aesthetically pleasing man that was half-naked and whom she was currently in bed with."Jeans, no jeans. Come out bloody starkers for all I care-" her words were cut off by a loud bark. "Oh Shitte! Come on Ash hurry up before Moose eats our feast." she said, eyes wide, as she she slowly got up from the bed. Before she did though she leaned forward and landed a sloppy kiss on the mans cheek. "Glad you're doing alright, you reckless idjit." she murmured fondly, playing with his hair, before sauntering out. "Moose! Get down from that." she called out, exasperated, as he kept pulling at the curtains.

At least he was polite enough not to touch the food and the St.Patrick's day garlands and decorations were still in place.

She was a funny one, eh? He wondered to himself, as he watched her eyes move down his bare chest. She thought she could joke about having him while she was in his bedroom—in his bed to be precise, and he wouldn’t retaliate by pinning her under him? She was blushing, but he was not. He knew what he liked, and he did, indeed like his coworker, and wasn’t one to not go after something he wanted—propriety be damned. He was about to say just that when he heard the racket from the other room and temporarily got distracted. “Brought the dog to preserve your innocence? Nice work, Ros.” He teased lightly. “You’re lucky he’s eating the snacks. You looking at me like that could get you into trouble. I’m certain you’re not here to pay me any sympathy, but—eh, I’ll let it slide. You brought food and made coffee. Your virtue is saved.” He teased again, letting her leave before he got out of bed and slid on his jeans, a bit tighter than they were last night. 
 
“So, what’s the occasion?” He wondered. “You couldn’t possibly be here to feed me because I’m disabled.” He laughed lightly. It was just a flesh wound, barely a scratch. Well, not really, it was actually a pretty decent wound, but Ashley had definitely had worse. “You’re really into this St. Patrick’s Day thing, hm? Irish Whiskey first thing in the morning? Marry me.” He joked, as he walked into the room. He rubbed the dog between the ears as he walked over to get the coffee. Irish Cream coffee sounded fantastic. There was nothing for a functional alcoholic like Ashley like getting wasted on breakfast. He took the bottle and poured more than was necessary into his coffee cup. He made a second cup that was mostly just whiskey cream into a cup for her. Whiskey with a side of coffee. Probably just like she liked it. Damn, she was great. 
 
He looked around at the decorations and smiled. She had really outdone herself, and he had let her make a mess of the place like this. It was rare he celebrated any holiday with anyone and this one was so benign that he really appreciated it. Had she done this for Valentine’s day, he might have been put-off. 
 
“Looks good, I should hire you to do all my decorating.” He chided, as one part of the garland fell down. He laughed a little heartily, and took a long swig of coffee. “So, what all did you bring for second breakfast?” He teased. “And don’t forget elevensies.” 

She was between two minds just then. Part of her wanted to hex Ash for getting so familiar (an undoubtedly hypocritical feeling, considering the circumstance) and another part was very very tempted to just lean forward. Being pinned made her fight response kick in, though, and she desperately wanted to flip him. She supposed it came with sparring as much as she did, and with heavier sparring partners at that. (Mostly Reed, really, because no one enjoyed sparring with her quite as much as he did). He was bloody lucky he was still tender from his injury else he'd be hard pressed to keep her contained. Her teal eyes narrowed for a split second, before a smirk flitted across her lips. "I take care of my own virtue just fine, thanks." she said, sniffing imperiously like she wasn't bothered, before she swiped him in the shin with her legs in retaliation. It wasn't like his shins smarted, anyway. She gave him a last once over before ducking out, feeling equal parts relieved and disappointed. It was... a strange feeling to have, actually.

"Its just a flesh wound, barely a scratch." she mimicked, mocking, as her face pinched up in irritation. Who did he think he was kidding, exactly? She knew from personal experience he probably shouldn't be moving around so much, but leave it to Ash to be a bloody reckless idiot about wound care. "Irish Whiskey is the only thing that can make that swill you call a drink bearable." she said, grinning, as she looked up from the breakfast fare she was currently dishing up. She felt a prickle of hesitancy as his question registered, wondering if she should admit it was her birthday, too. She settled for a half truth, not knowing how to broach the topic, especially what the rest of her plans entailed. She knew he'd want to go join her friends in celebrating - it seemed just like Ash's thing - and she wasn't about to let him, when he really should have been resting.

A large part of her wondered at having Ash and Harlan in the same room together and something in her instantly rebelled at the thought. She didn't want to examine why that was, exactly, either. It was possible they'd get along, she mused, though her brain supplied she shouldn't have invited Harlan, maybe. Ugh. She was just not going to think about it and focus on the present instead. "Its my favorite day." she supplied, sidestepping the question neatly, without really having to lie about it. He could be mad at her some other time. "Figured you'd be less likely to make a break for it if St. Paddy's was brought to you though I very much doubt I could stop you from being an idjit and straining yourself anyway." she wasn't naive enough to think that he'd stay put, but she definitely refused to be the reason he did. "Bacon, eggs, buttered croissants, preserves with toast, cut fruit, waffles with hazelnut spread and cream." she rattled off, feeling a bit sheepish. "We can't forget elevenses." she agreed solemnly, though her eyes were dancing in amusement. She made a pleased sort of sound as he placed the mug in her hand, humming a bit when she took a sip and sat down on the table. "Shall we?" she asked, eyes bright, as she took in the veritable feast.

Ashley helped himself to a heaping plateful of food. Roslyn was seriously speaking his love language here. He could kiss her, truly. In fact, that might have been the one thing missing from making this one of the best mornings he’d had in a while. He was honestly a little lonely here in his own flat. Coming home to the same thing every day made him miss out on the fun of travelling around town and meeting new girls in new bars every evening. Yes, it came with some opportunities to like someone more than just for a night… but, well, he wasn’t sure how to do actual relationships or if he even wanted to. Roslyn seemed like a great match for him. She had the looks, the witty quips, the pop culture references and the ferocity for him—but surely she wasn’t that into him, right? 
 
He moaned as he took a few bites, appreciative of her cooking. “Ahhh, Ros, you’ve spoiled me.” He teased. “I’m ruined for other breakfasts now.” He joked. “You’ll have to come over weekly. Make this a thing. Does it really count as second breakfast if I haven’t had first breakfast yet?” He wondered, taking a sip of his coffee-flavored whiskey. This was perfect, absolutely perfect. 
 
“If you think you’re gonna keep me in the house be feeding me, you’re absolutely right. I am powerless to your commands, Hayes.” He laughed a little. Truthfully, he might still go out, vbut if he was fat and happy and a little tipsy by the time she left, he might just take out a copy of wenchy witches and take care of the rest on his own. 
 
“You don’t have to hover over my injury. I’ve had worse. Did I tell you about the time I was mauled by a Griffin?” He liked to tell this story because he lived to tell it. Not many would have. Unfortunately, he could not say he single-handedly subdued the beast, and it had ended up getting away. He wasn’t necessarily supposed to tell that story, though, because technically it never happened. At least not as far as the Ministry of Magic knew, and as his auror babysitter, she was supposed to tell all his secrets. Luckily, it seemed like she didn’t tell them a damn thing. 

It was ironically funny, how not in tune she was when men liked her. It was like her brain had some sort of endlessly tiring blind spot about it. Perhaps it was an emotional defense mechanism, where she shied away from opening herself to the possibilities. Or, perhaps, she was that oblivious when it came to feelings. If she thought about it for longer than a second she'd probably land at the truth, which was somewhere in between, the were most truths tended to be wedged. It doubly didn't occur to her how her actions could be construed, in the grand scheme. She was an oddly thoughtful and domestic woman who happened to be draw-shy went it came to matters of the heart.

She could pour herself over the proverbial goblet of friendship without a second thought but when it came to relationships deeper and more complex than loyalty and friendship that is when the panic set in. It was a truly problematic thing, especially when all she wanted to do was grope and kiss devastatingly handsome men. It was confounding because she was in that stage in her life when meaningless sex was depressing, she wanted more for herself, but also, well. The thought was vaguely terrifying. It would take a well of big feeling to get her to act on things when she could push them down with such practiced ease. "I don't make a habit of spoiling grown men." she said, voice dry, even though she sort of absolutely did. The way she treated Ollie, Alex, and Aiden said plenty. (Fergie, Micah, and Reed were also pretty good examples of it, now she thought of it a bit) "I feel like it could, so long as you stuff your gullet enough." she said, thoughtful, before her lips curved into a pleased grin.

"That is such a lie, don't even try it." she huffed, even as she smiled through her annoyance. "I'd have to feed you until your fit to bursting, liquor you up until you cant see straight, and then proceed to chain you down somehow, before I felt comfortable you'd stay where I left you." and even then, she'd be doubtful. "Don't be daft, of course I'm going to hover you ninny." she muttered, sighing, as she leaned forward on the table. "Go on and impress me with your Griffin story, though, like a proper American gentleman." she prompted, settling in, as she took a sip of her whiskey, erm, coffee.

God, she was perfect. Ashley couldn’t help but dwell on this fact, drinking his morning whiskey and chowing down on the best food he’d had in a long while. His normal meals consisted of gas-station burritos and really bad, cheap, diner food. He wasn’t used to being spoiled. “Ah, so that makes me special?” Ashley teased. “Maybe you just like me, Hayes, if I’m the only man you’re spoiling like this.”

He could flirt with the big-boys, and proceeded to do it at every possibility. Even so, his heart fluttered a little at the idea that she was only doing this for him, no one else. That she really just liked him. He didn’t hate the idea. In fact, he really, really liked the idea. Was he too cowardly to comment on it, though? Absolutely.

He laughed as she called him out on his lie. “Okay, okay Ros, you’re right.” He admitted. “What can I say? I’m a busy dude.” He laughed. “I hate being idle, and I know you know the feeling.” He really hated not being able to do anything, just sitting around. Indy would absolutely laugh at him about this injury if he told him he’d be sitting up with it. The idea that she wanted to hover, too, was nice.

He cleared his throat and leaned in a little, to tell the story. “Well, to start off, this ain’t one for the reports.” He laughed. He proceeded to tell her the story about the Greek beast that was terrorizing a muggle neighborhood. He had read the reports of muggles nearby talking about a giant monster with the head of an eagle and the body of a lion. He had dragged his brother along. They had found it not long out of a rural Greek village, and Ashley had stunned it, but the stunning spell wore off before he could take care of it. It had gotten him right on his not-currently-injured shoulder. He proceeded to show her the marks to prove it. Of course, Indy couldn’t subdue it on his own and came immediately to Ashley’s defense and it got away.

“I know, I know, what’s an American Ministry guy doing in Greece, but come on. That’s the stuff I’ve always wanted to do. Help people, you know?”

Lips curling along the cup the brunette witch laughed, a whisper of something unnamable curling up her spine. As a rule Roslyn refused to admit she liked anyone least of all to their face. She enjoyed arguing by nature, too, regardless of if she agreed with her own position or not which is why it was beyond unexpected to blurt out a "Maybe." to his question, feeling a bit off kilter. Merlin perhaps she'd indulged in too much liquor and too little food if her brain was firing off like this. "You're sort of insufferable, though, so I'm not sure why I bother." there, that was better wasn't it?

She felt inexplicably guilty, though, she really had no reason to. For all intent and purpose, he was the only man she was currently spoiling. Family members aside, Fergie and Reed were the only ones she would have done this for. Fergie she was being careful to toe the line, though, because she didn't want to get in the way of his burgeoning romance. She'd taken their conversation to heart and, well, she cared too much about Fergie to act like a careless idiot. And, truly, Reed was a special case altogether. He was prickly, though, and doubted he'd let her hover over him if he ever got himself injured not that she wouldn't try her best anyway.

"I should've had the healers immobilize your bloody arms in a more lasting fashion, then, reckless bloody idiot." she scoffed, that familiar zing of worryirritationpanic swelling in her gut like a poisonous electric eel. Worst part was that she did, in fact, understand how unbearable it was to be idle and to ignore the call of adventure. She wasn't quite as bad as Aiden about it but, probably closer to how Oliver was than the rest of her family, but it was very much there. An untenable family trait that made them twitchy, restless, and with a general anxiety about being tied dow to something. She honestly wondered how her father had made the jump and settled down with her mother.

Her teel eyes roved over her partners scars, a cacophony of mixed emotions once again starting to crest in her chest. She was impressed, really, but also equal parts wanting to throttle him and wanting to sweep her fingers over the scarring to make sure he was alright. Her fingers twitched, spasmed really, on her cup, as she gave shot Ash a rather severe look. "I know exactly, getting into unsanctioned trouble no doubt." she huffed, grinning a little despite herself, because she was a bit of a hypocrite. It had sounded fun, actually, and she was intimately aware of the call of wanting to help. "Yea." she agreed, eyelashes fluttered down and brushing her cheeks, as she sighed deeply. She knew exactly what it felt like to be propelled by the need to help.

Ashley smiled a little at her response. Maybe he was the only one she was spoiling? What a good sign. Despite himself, Ashley was really interested in her. He liked her, and it frightened him a little bit. He wasn’t good with relationships, having ruined many a relationship before—especially his most recent, where he had ghosted the poor girl as soon as he thought he might have loved her. He grinned at Ros, especially as she insulted him a little bit. She was fiery and he liked it. She was also, quite like him, afraid to say anything too forward. He could tell that, and he related. 
 
“I like that you’re only spoiling me, you know.” He managed, a little more forward than he thought appropriate. “Makes me special.” He winked, drinking the rest of his coffee-flavored whiskey in one gulp. He didn’t even mind her slightly scolding, worried look after his story. It said ‘concern’ which also meant ‘caring’. Was he screwed, emotionally, over her? Absolutely. 
 
“I’m sure you know what it’s like, getting into unsanctioned trouble.” He teased, knowing she did. “But, when life calls, you have to answer.” He shrugged, eyeing her up a bit. He put down his fork after awhile longer. “I’m absolutely stuffed now.” He admitted. “Best food I’ve had in a long time. I’m used to gas station burritos and terrible takeaways. Or bar food.” He laughed. “You really outdid yourself, Ros. I appreciate you.” 

She could feel herself flush a bit, annoyed, because she didn't like to feel so caught off guard. Only, well... she liked that he liked that he was being spoiled. It had been a long time since anyone really appreciated that and she couldn't help but feel sort of pleased about it. But then he was back to acting like usual and she sort of just dismissed it as typical Ash behavior. Maybe he didn't mean anything by it, or at least not as much as she was overthinking it.

"That's because you're a narcissist." she shot back, grinning despite herself. She liked to tease him and it was nice that he just sort of rolled with the punches instead of getting hurt or upset. He wasn't someone she needed to tread lightly with or worry about hurting his feelings.

"Maybe." she allowed, eyes glinting, because she did, in fact, get herself into trouble. She tried not to most times but, really, political nonsense just slowed things down to an unmanageable level. If you left the bureaucrats to their own devices, well, not much would get done probably. "You're welcome." she said genuinely, a bright smile coming over her face. She wondered how a person that burned as much calories as he did could tolerate such terrible food, though. His appreciation pleased her, too, and she almost told him about her birthday before thinking better of it. "How're you feeling?" she asked, biting at her lip.

Narcissist? So cruel. “I’m wounded, Ros, really.” He laughed, smiling widely for her. He had been trying to be nice, and her response was an insult, naturally. He loved her, he thought. Maybe it wasn’t the same kind of love that developed a strong bond over time, but it was love all the same. He was definitely falling for her, he knew it. It should have frightened him more than it did, especially since they hadn’t been partners for long, and probably wouldn’t be for much longer. “What will I do without your lovely babysitting?” He wondered. “I’m probably due off this probation soon, and you’ll have to go back to your day job. Might just leave my head at home with my lunchbox without you to shove it in my hands on the way out the door.”
 
“I’m feeling pretty good.” He nodded. “Just a touch raw, trust me, I’ve had way worse injuries.” He assured, waving off her concern. “But what about you? Surely you’re not planning on doting on me all day, whatcha got planned for this afternoon?” He asked. “Any chance you’ll join me later at the pub for one of those barrels of green beer?” He teased. “I say barrels cause they’re fucking massive.” He teased. This was as close as he was gong to get to asking her out on a proper date, and he barely made it sound like one. “Bet you could drink me under the table if you wanted to.” He grinned, doubting it. He got up to fill up his whiskey cup, adding even less coffee this time. He needed a little caffeine to be conscious, but mostly he wanted to get plasterd, partly due to nerves about his recently-understood crush and partly cause he’d just asked her out.
 
“Or, you know, if you’re busy we can rain check.” He offered. What if she had plans? He wanted to make sure she knew the offer was valid and not just him wanting to get drunk on the holiday. “You play pool? I bet you’re good, even if you’ve never played. You should play me, I’ll show you some moves I guarantee you don’t know.”

"Liar." she quipped, amused despite herself. If she had any inkling into the inner-working of Ash's mind she'd have been both surprised and trying to stamp down the panic. In her mind Ash wasn't the commitment type, which suited her fine considering she was ... terrible at commitment or relationships in general that required for her to be invested and vulnerable. Vulnerability wasn't her strong suit, to be sure, but that didn't mean that despite it all the thought of having something steady and meaningful called to her.

Opposite desires, of course.

The thought of Ash being reassigned opened up a little fissure of some unnamable but decidedly negative emotion through her core. Best to push that down into a box to deal with at a latter time. "You're a bloody mess. Are you even going to eat properly?" she tsked, feeling concern bloom in her chest at the thought that he wouldn't without her there to badger him. She had a thought that he needed a lot more to hold him together than a little affection and it sent her brain into depths she did not wish to delve into.

"When you're feeling better." she agreed, mouth turning down into a frown. "As in when any strenuous activity won't mean you start bleeding out, yea?" she said with the most severe-looking frown she could muster. She still felt guilt for not letting him join tonight but it was for his own good. "And I'd destroy you at it." she added, a glint in her eye, as she thought of beating him at pool. The thought that he'd just asked her out did not register. At all.

“Oh, come on, a little drinking and a game of pool won’t kill me, I promise.” He teased, taking the rain check and putting it away for later, but absolutely not letting her keep him down over his minor flesh wound. “What part of that is strenuous?” He asked, tongue in cheek, prepared for what he was about to say next. “Unless you’re referring to what comes after you drink me under the table and bring me home to take advantage.” He joked, a little glint in his eye. “Here’s my deal. Drink with me first until we’re both absolutely sloshed, and then we’ll bet on who the better pool player is.” He offered.

“Winner gets… whatever we agree on.” He offered, puzzling over what his prize would be. He thought about asking for something as forward as a kiss, but then decided that instead his prize would be a proper date, planned by him. He knew she liked a lot of the same things he did, and he would have a great time taking her anywhere, really. Just… he wanted it off the clock. He wanted it personal rather than professional—pleasure, rather than business.

“I want a date and time. If you’re not free tonight, how about Friday after work?” He asked. “I promise to sit up like a good boy if you let me take you out.”

"Absolutely not." she said firmly, frowning. Part of her was certain the idiot was going to do whatever he wanted but she just didn't... she genuinely didn't want him to hurt himself further. It bothered her, quite a bit, that he refused to take it easy. "Taking advantage implies theres someone unwilling." she teased, amused, despite herself. "You don't have enough liquor for that to happen." she said, utterly amused. "I hope you enjoy being grannied." she said, completely willing to beat his arse in a game of billiards.

She'd not been able to beat Oliver at it but her brother was rather prolific. She'd take her chances against Ash.

Still she was rather surprised by his request. "A date and time." she said dubiously, though a hint of a smile remained. "Alright." there didn't seem to be any harm in it, really. Then again it didn't strike her that she'd essentially agreed to a date. Its not as if she believed that was where his intent lay.