Bad Ideas Come In Twos || Julia

Monday, March 14, 1921
The Kelpie’s Cask
10:08 PM

Mondays were always quiet there.

When Maddox had first stumbled on the bar, he'd been heading back to the castle after another of his many 'favours'. The man who'd called it in had offered him a treat, impressed with his ...discretion on the matter and his ability to handle his delicate situation.

He hadn't thought much of it then. An establishment of a decent size, a roaring fireplace that doubled as a floo station, tables scattered about the main room, and smaller tables in the corners and along the walls for more intimate gatherings. The owner was a friendly bloke, middle-aged and willing to talk your ear off if you chose to sit up by the bar. William. He worked alongside his wife, who was more often found back in the kitchen preparing meals as they were ordered.

There weren't many places as lively as this one out in the countryside as the weekends drew closer, but Mondays? The place was bare bones.

A few dedicated bar goers were scattered about the room, all regulars in their usual places. Some nursed drink alone, lost in their prospects for the new week and how they planned to survive it. A pair sat by the bar chatting up Will while a feature programme from the Ministry's Cultural Division played over the radio. The sound of the presenter blended with the general hum of the bar, the anchor all but sitting there with them.

Occasionally, one of the men would burst out into raucous laughter, already deep in whatever drink they were having, and the free-flowing conversation that transcended several topics since the start of their night.

They weren't the only ones having a good time. A trio of fishmongers occupied their own table, to the occasional sound of someone's fist pounding against the table as the man in the middle recounted a tale his buddies had obviously already heard and were now mocking him for.

And there they were, sitting at their own table in a dimly lit corner, adding to the laughter of the night with their own.

Maddox's cup slammed harshly against the scratched wood of the table with a dull, loud thud as he barked his laughter. They'd been drinking for the better part of the last hour, having chosen to grab dinner somewhere else earlier. Now, Julia, her lips looser than when they'd left the castle, shared horror stories of her marriage to Todd with such humour that he felt his insides beginning to cramp.

"You're kidding! I wish I'd known it was so awful. You can't be serious."

Could any single man be so awful in so many ways?

It would come as a surprise to no one that Julia preferred quieter, more intimate spaces. She wasn't a woman given to large displays, and while she could perform with the best of them in the midst of a gala or luncheon, lowkey and down-to-earth had always been more of her scene. Curator work, research and libraries didn't exactly point to someone who preoccupied herself with being the life of the party.

She'd never set foot in the place Maddox had brought her, but she felt as much at home here as any other patron. With a casual dinner firmly behind them, he'd convinced her a few drinks wouldn't hurt. Now, she was grinning, rolling her eyes even as she brought her goblet to her lips for another sip.

"Serious as a nun in church," she said, raising an eyebrow at him as she swallowed, letting the bitterness of the alcohol coat her tongue. She couldn't help her own laugh as his practically burst out of him. She shook her head as she set her drink down, resting her arms on the table and leaning closer towards him. "I must be some sort of masochist," she almost groaned, feeling the gentle waves of her buzz starting to wash over her. "It was your job as my best friend to shake me out of it," her smiled widened as honey-brown eyes found soft blue. "I blame you completely."

Her marriage had been...short lived, and a joke really at the end of the day. The lead-up to it had stretched longer than the actual union, and had been one giant conglomerate of nearly every kind of abusive toxicity there could be. He'd tried to control her, played games with her head, tried to tell her who she could be friends with, how she could behave, lied to her about his life, and abused the children around him. Rushed a marriage with her, claiming that his life was endangered if she didn't acquiesce.

Not to mention the...other aspects.

The wedding had been an enormous mistake, and Benji's attack had been what sealed the coffin on the 'relationship'. She'd played the part of the good little wife for a few months while she worked with James to quietly annul everything. When it had all ended, it had been...rough, but the relief that had flooded her to know she never had to deal with Todd again had been worth all the tears.

"We had a fight over you once," she said coyly, studying him a bit as her dimples deepened on her cheeks. "He hated that I call you 'mon soleil'. Or that you spent so much time in my office." She gave a little shrug of her shoulder. "Told me he didn't want me to be friends with you anymore." She paused a moment, a little spark flashing behind her eyes.

"See how well that worked out?"

Maddox had never approved of Julia's marriage but had always been a supportive friend. With how many others inside the castle had disparaged the union she and Todd had created, the man had seen no reason to kick her while she was down and add to the noise if she truly had been determined to stick it out. Had they had happy times? Surely they must've, otherwise he didn't think Julia would've married the man in the first place, but he'd always felt there was something that...wasn't right.

Throughout the course of...whatever the hell that had been, Maddox had done what he could to be supportive but had he known half this shit, things may have played out differently. There weren't many people Maddox had grown close to in his life. His career had always made him transient, drifting between social groups, settling down, then disappearing again. Even with the expectation of doing the same again, the woman had wormed her way into his inner circle, and he took that very seriously.

Tonight, under the influence of liquor and in good company, it was a little easier not to have his blood boiling. That she could laugh about it and that she'd freed herself were enough to allow him the simple joy of laughing the man to scorn for his transgressions.

"You should've blinked twice. I'd have saved you. Apparently, I'm something of a superhero around here." One that was likely on his way to prison, but he digressed.

"We had a fight over you once."

"Did you?" He grinned wide like a Cheshire cat, not nearly as self-conscious about his sharper canines while his head floated. Maddox took a swig of his drink, his throat already numbing itself against the burn.

"He hated that I call you 'mon soleil'. Or that you spent so much time in my office. Told me he didn't want me to be friends with you anymore."

Snort.

"Cheers to not listening then," he said, lifting his glass toward hers. "I'd have been dreadfully lonely without you. No one to remind me about my poor choices, no warm desk to fall asleep on...or under." No spawn of Satan chasing him with a broom, but that was neither here nor there. "I bet he loved that."

Had Maddox been trying to be provocative when he spent that much time in Julia's office? Not hardly. She was just about the only person in the castle he could stand in any meaningful capacity. Had he known it was causing friction in their marriage, he might have eased up. Had he known the depths and truths of Todd being a piece of shit, he may have done it more. All in the past now, he supposed. Nothing but a war story to be shared over their...uh...how many drinks had they had...?

Did it matter?

"I never did believe he was taking care of you right. Just never seemed the type." And with these stories, he was even less convinced.

Maddox had always been supportive of her and her decisions, even if she knew on some level he didn't approve or like it. He'd been a constant, always there and present, even when she remained tight-lipped about the things that were going on within the relationship. There had been good moments interspersed with all the bad, little flickers that made her ignore all of the glaring red flags.

She wasn't an unintelligent woman, but in this whole song-and-dance that had gone further than it ever should have, she had been stupid. Luckily, it was all water under the bridge and the woman had a ridiculous story to tell.

"You should've blinked twice. I'd have saved you. Apparently, I'm something of a superhero around here."

"You are," she said lightly, as her fingers trailed the rim of her goblet, an elegant but idle motion, "Racing up towers." Her voice drawled slightly as she tilted her head at him, obviously playing with him. "Rescuing children from a madman. You were right about Thayer." He was a hero, as far as she was concerned. Maddox had risked his own freedom and future to save those girls - something all of them as professors should be willing to do for their students. "I'll remember that the next time I end up in mortal peril," she finished, her tone lazy but her eyes glinting. "Or another ill-advised entanglement."

Because apparently her own judgement in men was seriously lacking.

"Cheers to not listening then. I'd have been dreadfully lonely without you. No one to remind me about my poor choices, no warm desk to fall asleep on...or under."

"Cheers," she agreed, clinking her drink against his. "Seems we both have a penchant for poor choices, and who else will put up with our bullshit? You realize Maddox, this makes you rather indispensable." She sighed a little, giving a slight shrug. What would she have done without him over the past year? He likely had no idea, but he'd truly gotten her through some of the harder times with his humor and wry smiles. Over the years, Julia had had lots of friends, but none quite like him. He didn't find value in her because of her status or social standing. Rather, they were drawn to one another's personalities and the ease they had found in one another's company.

"I bet he loved that."

"Hated it," she said, wrinkling her nose, before taking another long sip to finish the contents of her cup. She glanced over her shoulder to the bartender, signaling him for another round. What the hell. They were already feeling it, what was a little more? "He once asked me what was wrong with the both of us. As though you napping in my office in cat form was akin to fucking." She laughed, remembering Todd had brought it up when they weren't even dating.

"The scandal of it all, Maddox Barlowe."

"I never did believe he was taking care of you right. Just never seemed the type."

She studied him for a moment as the bartender set another two cups down in front of them. "Is that so?" she finally asked, moving her long brown hair from her neck to one shoulder, relieving the heat that lingered from the alcohol. She smiled at him, propping her chin onto her hand as she reached over and adjusted the cuff on his sleeve for him that had come unbuttoned.

"And how do you think he should have taken care of me?"

"Racing up towers. Rescuing children from a madman. You were right about Thayer."

He barely recognised himself.

The man who liked to steal small moments for naps atop the old barn knew he had no business running into unknowns. He had two children now, both needing him to remain alive. When he'd left Evander with Julia and had seen to it that Morgan had made it to the Great Hall safely, he'd know that the two would be in good hands. That didn't excuse recklessness. Things could've easily gone the other way--had almost gone the other way. But, he knew he'd do it again. Exasperated as he was by himself, Maddox had never been the sort to sit out a disaster.

"I'd avoid the peril for a while, love. Let me gain my strength back first. Entanglements," he continued, letting the word roll off his tongue with a touch of interest. "I suppose I could rouse myself for that. Can't have just anyone waltzing in to claim you next, not now that I know they might not be willing to share."

He settled his cup back on the table, the clink still echoing in his ears. "And not now that you've admitted I'm not worth letting go."

Maddox knew that she could handle herself. Julia was a tough one, not easily brought down. The fact that so much had gone on without her ever giving it away was testament enough to a woman who wouldn't crack. It was a trait to be admired and, in the end, had seen her through what sounded like a rough period, but no amount of liquor would remove his concern for his friend.

Maddox drained his cup as William approached, deciding there was no need to dampen the mood with sentiment when they were having such a good time. If he remembered in the morning, he would probe her a bit more. Tonight, he preferred to fixate on the dimples he couldn't remember if he'd always known were there and the bit of skin her hair had given way to when she brushed it to the side.

"Another round of the same," he told the man, gesturing to his empty cup and Julia's goblet. What was one more round before they called it a night and headed back to the castle like the responsible adults they happened to be?

He eased back in his chair while he waited, his leg finding hers beneath the table to give it a light nudge as a languid grin spread across his lips. "If we had a galleon for every time someone thought we were fucking, we'd be rich and satisfied--apologies, you're already rich."

The Laurences and their galleons.

"Is that so?"

Blue irises descended to the hand that fiddled at his sleeve, an unfamiliar heat rushing from his wrist up the length of his arm. If nothing else, it was the surest sign he had already had too much, but good 'ole William was already half done mixing. There was no need for his efforts to go to waste.

"And how do you think he should have taken care of me?"

The corner of his mouth twitched upward in a faint smirk as his gaze rose to meet hers again. His fingers drummed lightly against the surface of the table, his inhibitions fleeing with each exhale.

How should a woman like Julia Laurence be taken care of? Maddox had never lingered on the matter before, not beyond a passing thought, easily tempered by the sanctity of the relationship they did have. Blue oceans took their time washing over her, covering every inch in his silence.

"I suppose you'd have to be willing to find out."

"I suppose I could rouse myself for that. Can't have just anyone waltzing in to claim you next, not now that I know they might not be willing to share."

An eyebrow perked in his direction, but she chose to simply smirk while bringing the fresh goblet to her lips. She wasn't sure what round they were on, but what did it matter really? Classes weren't in session for the week, all the kids were safe, and she and Maddox rarely had the opportunity to spend time together outside of the castle. There were times here and there they'd go to lunch in Hogsmeade or accompany one-another on a brief shopping outing.

Sometimes one just needed to loosen up.

"And not now that you've admitted I'm not worth letting go."

He was so cheeky, wasn't he? "Did you have any doubt before?" she asked, brown eyes studying him from just over the rim. Surely he'd already known. The two had become fast friends before they'd even started their careers at Hogwarts, and that bond had only solidified over the years. When they'd resigned together, it'd been with the understanding that he was still required to write her every now and then and that they'd meet up for dinner every few months. Maddox wasn't a friend she had any intention of discarding, and she liked to think he felt the same in return.

She sighed a little as she set her goblet back down, ignoring the way her eyelids were beginning to feel slightly heavier as warmth surged through her, reminding her that she should slow down. Julia wasn't a heavy drinker by any meaning of the phrase. Normally a cocktail or two were all she indulged in, but with the ease in conversation and her usual tight-lipped demeanor falling to the wayside, she could hardly find the strength to care.

"If we had a galleon for every time someone thought we were fucking, we'd be rich and satisfied--apologies, you're already rich."

The laugh that bubbled up from her chest was bright and carefree - one that she hadn't heard out of herself in...she couldn't even pinpoint how long. It wasn't that Julia lived an unhappy life; rather her days were filled with more joy and love than she could recall in years. But the woman was of the type that had a hard time letting go. Even in her flirtations, Julia was refined and elegant. Before her father had passed, she had always been acutely aware of her image and how she reflected upon him and her brothers.

It was...strange in a way. Beginning to live for herself.

“Rich, yes. But satisfaction’s such a collaborative effort, don’t you think?” A strange shiver ran up her leg as his nudged it, causing her to look down at the table momentarily as another amused smile reached her eyes. When her gaze fixed on his again, she was taken slightly aback, noticing the way his own danced all over her.

He'd never looked at her that way before.

She'd let him.

"I suppose you'd have to be willing to find out."

Her chin tilted upwards, a knowing look sparkling in her eyes. Willing to find out? What an invitation. She hummed, pulling her hand away from his cuff, choosing instead to sit up a little in her chair, crossing her leg over the other. His warm earthy scent lingered over the table, catching her attention in a way it never really had before.

"Research has always been my weakness." She lingered on the way his eyes - had they always been that blue - washed over her, "But where's the fun in making it that easy for you?"

There he was, the man of the hour. Maddox muttered his thanks to the man as he set their drinks before them. It would probably be his last. There had never been a time when he was a heavy drinker. His constitution wouldn't allow for it. After the botched transformation, the man had grown infirm in many ways that were easy to manage. Cigarettes...alcohol... the former didn't agree with him at all--a shame given his appreciation for the odd stolen cig when he was still at Hogwarts. Alcohol didn't quite run through him, but enough of it, and a hangover would be the least of his worries.

This would be enough. Maddox already had a nice little buzz going and a gorgeous view.

"Did you have any doubt before?"

"Doubts?" He took a small gulp, his face and neck flooding with warmth as the liquor continued working its magic in him. Maddox gave a languorous swivel of his cup. "Only until the cat bed. After that, I figured I was practically family." It had been a war as early as the founding of their friendship, the man insisting he wasn't a cat, and the woman doing everything in her power to pretend otherwise.

In the grander scheme of things, the cat bed wasn't the worst she could do. Maddox had always enjoyed the naps above...and beneath her desk, even if Todd apparently didn't. Poor chap, no wonder he was always so sour.

His own laughter was contained when he pressed his cup to his lips, watching her laughter bubble forth. "Right you are," he argued readily. Satisfaction was often a game for two--or more, he supposed, depending on the sort of satisfaction one chased. At the risk of being presumptuous, Maddox chose to believe they were falling onto the same page.

For all he lacked in energy, Maddox had never lacked confidence. Nor did he lack that problematic Gryffindor self-assurance that, in large quantities, slipped into arrogance, but at his tempered level, removed nonsensical and crippling uncertainty. He'd helped to 'storm' a tower without a thought of the danger. The pretty, dimpled smile across the table got his blood pumping in new ways under the liquor, but it wasn't enough to make his heart faint, or to reintroduce usual restraint.

He didn't retreat when she withdrew her hand; instead, he leaned forward onto the table, propped up by one elbow. Maddox reached for her hand, pulling it back to him and capturing it for himself. Nice and warm, that's what she was. With all the manhandling she preferred to do, he'd never noticed before just how soft her hand was until his thumb now brushed lightly against it. Who knew he'd been missing out on half his life by not holding the hand of his best friend?

A lovely night of discovery, sprinkled with a light game of cat and mouse. How very fitting.

"Research has always been my weakness. But where's the fun in making it that easy for you?"

It was his turn to laugh, his eyes flooding with mirth.

"When have you ever made it easy for me?" Maddox had met many easy women in his life. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing--not for him, at least. Julia wasn't among them. Not in her daily life, not as a woman with power, not easily bent. Why should this be any different? Was there a real plan? A scheme beneath the surface? No. Just a man who'd been drinking enough to no longer be burdened by the petty concerns of a sober man.

"I find that sometimes we deny ourselves the simplest pleasures for little more than the joy of being difficult. Equally thrilling, I'm sure," and she did it well, "but, you've never thought about it?"

Ahh the cat bed. A seemingly innocent object that had caused so much chatter around the castle in 1918. She had just wanted him to be comfortable and as much as Maddox liked to argue that he wasn't in fact a cat, he sure looked and acted like one when he transfigured. The way he kneaded the bed before he settled into it told her everything she needed to know, and she'd kept her amused opinions to herself.

It was a quiet win in the same way he wound himself around her ankles when she was sat at her desk, before falling asleep.

"We'll get you your own room setup in the family castle," she said with a wry grin, "Dinner's at 6:30 every day. The house elf fusses if you're not on time." It was all so pretentious, she knew, but why hide it? Maddox knew who she was and where she came from. They often laughed at the differences in their backgrounds, coming from completely different worlds.

Her eyes widened only slightly when he took her hand, leaning over the table towards her. She didn't move her gaze, finding herself suddenly intrigued in just what exactly he was doing. Her fingertips brushed idly along his palm, slinking down every now and then to his wrist. Julia knew this dance well and had done it...more times than she'd admit. She had always been unapologetic about what she liked and what she chased, never worrying much about wagging tongues. She knew how to keep her activities discreet and her partners relatively unknown.

After Ezra she'd maintained appearances for her family, indulging herself when they weren't looking. She wouldn't call herself promiscuous, and since her annulment had focused solely on her job and children. But she was a woman that liked men, and she'd never shied away from it.

"When have you ever made it easy for me?"

She hummed a bit, deciding if they were going to do this little will-they-won't-they charade, then she may as well lean into it. Have a little fun with him.

"I find that sometimes we deny ourselves the simplest pleasures for little more than the joy of being difficult. Equally thrilling, I'm sure, but, you've never thought about it?"

"Is that what you think of me?" she asked a pretty smile spreading across her lips, "Difficult?" It wasn't the first time she'd been called such, and she couldn't deny that she took a little pride in it. "Sometimes the best things are hard-won."

It was her turn to look him up and down. No, it wasn't the first time she had noticed him. Maddox was a very good-looking man and turned heads wherever he went. He had that rugged pretty-boy look to him that women liked and that grin of his certainly did him many favors. But had she ever thought of him in a way that didn't respect their friendship?

Rather than answer, she posed a question right back. "Would you have wanted me to?" She bit her lip lightly, interested in his answer, but before he could reply, she decided to push it a little further. "Hard to imagine really, when you haven't even kissed me." She gave a little shrug of her shoulder, her voice playful but soft, "Sort of shocking, isn’t it? All this time and not so much as a stolen moment in a corridor."

Her free hand reached for her goblet, downing what little liquid courage remained.

"And here we could have had the portraits talking."

“A whole room.” Maddox whistled low and level. For a moment, his eyes rose to the ceiling, growing vacant as if he were trying imagining the gracious offer. Blue orbs sank again, glimmering with the humour of the conversation. “I don’t suppose I could trouble you with the offspring? A cupboard would be enough for Evander though Morgan may also need her own space.”

Scheduled dinner times were just the sort of event he imagined went on in that sprawling castle out in the Arundel countryside. It would certainly be a sight that sent the duchy reeling, living and dead. Julia already had a penchant for bringing in strays, a thing he knew had already earned her some skepticism. Inviting in three more would surely be the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Maddox kept his gaze locked on that coy smile she sported, enchanted in no small part by his drink. He didn’t need it, of course. Julia Laurence held a sophisticated beauty. It was the sort that got better the longer you looked, the sort of flame that drew you in if you were fool enough to not look away.

He should look away, and maybe he would in another minute. He’d already fallen into the trap of those honey brown eyes. The hypnosis went further, wild fire spreading where her fingers treaded along his wrist.

He would look away. Soon.

"Is that what you think of me? Difficult?"

“Come now, love,” he said, sipping generously from his cup. Just a mouthful left and it too was gone. He set the cup to the side, indicating that would be enough for him. “Let’s not pretend you didn’t already know that.”

"Would you have wanted me to?"

She bit her lip and it drew his attention there. Another stirring, a flash of heat and Julia struck. Both had held a match close to their chest, the back and forth play stoking that simple flame until one of them finally pulled it out into the open. Perhaps he’d been the one to do it with his incendiary question, but she’d certainly answered the call.

Hard to say.

He’d never so much as kissed her.

A stolen moment in the corridor.

The twitch of a smile returned. “How right you are. I’ve fallen off with this one.” Reaching into his holster, he drew his wand and banished their table towards another. Hardly a head turned, the bar patrons too lost in their drink or their conversations. It opened up the space between them, exposing them to each other the way their words had been doing for the last half hour or so. “I do hope you’ll allow me a moment to correct that. Can’t have you making uninformed opinions after all.”

Before he could be made to explain, Maddox took hold of her by the wrist, tugging her to remove the distance. Before she’d fully settled in his lap, his lips had already found hers, engaging them in a dance the last of his whiskey had made clear he couldn’t leave the bar without.

“I don’t suppose I could trouble you with the offspring? A cupboard would be enough for Evander though Morgan may also need her own space.”

"Nonsense," she tutted as her fingers continued their gentle brushing along the sensitive skin of his wrist and palm, "I like them far more than you." Her dimples deepened with her tease. "Bring them. We'll give you a small wing closer to the menagerie. Sitting rooms and all."

The air between them thickened. Each glance lingered longer, each word felt like a dare. Whether it was the wine or something older and far more dangerous, Julia could feel the shift. She had always done well to separate her friends from any sort of engagement that consisted of the removal of clothing. Her flirtations with friends were always lighthearted, Maddox being no exception. But now as the liquid's effects coursed through her veins, washing away her inhibitions, she couldn’t look away from the way his mouth curved into that infuriating, perfect smirk.

"Don't look at me like that," she said softly, even as her own mirrored his.

“How right you are. I’ve fallen off with this one.”

Faster than Julia could make sense of it, the table lurched into the one beside it, glasses toppling, laughter breaking somewhere behind her. Suddenly, there was nothing between them but the charged air they’d been pretending not to breathe. Her grin widened into something reckless, one brow arching in challenge.

She knew she shouldn’t encourage him, but they were long past second thoughts. The friendship they’d built over the years hung precariously between them, the walls of the pub washed in deep crimson as everything else fell away.

It was now or never.

His hand caught her wrist and tugged, pulling her from the chair. She went willingly, every ounce of sense fleeing as her gaze stayed locked on his.

As their lips met, she felt the spark of it - the bright shock of contact. A flint strike in the dark, blinding her to anything but the sensation of his whiskey-drunk mouth on hers. She melted into him, settling across his lap, her legs draped over his as one hand tangled in his hair and the other traced the line of his shoulders.

Where the spark should have been satiated with the kiss, it only roared, building somewhere deep inside of her that answered every movement of his mouth with her own.

It was a marvel just how quickly the bar faded from his consciousness. The chatter, the laughter, the sounds of glasses clinking against tabletops, they disappeared into the hum that reverberated between them before beforing consumed by the low smouldering flame.

It wasn't an easy feat. For someone like Maddox who'd had his senses thoroughly fucked by his botched state, very little escaped his notice. In silence, he could hear the even breathing of those around him; when it was overly silent, he could pick up traces of their heartbeat. In noise, it all bombarded him, each stimulus demanding to be perceived. It was its own never-ending hell unless he managed to block it out, and very little helped him achieve that.

Julia, with her slight frame and delicate scent, made it as easy as breathing. The moment their lips met, he'd been transplanted to another plane. The anchor's voice faded into nothing, replaced by the hammering inside her chest, its heavy thuds saturating his sense of hearing.

Maddox kissed her hard, savouring the taste of her liquor that melted into his.

When he pulled away, his eyes clouded with a different kind of interest. They'd already begun down the road, there was no need to turn back. The man reached a hand up to brush aside the strands of her hair that had fallen loose.

"I know a place," he muttered against her lips. "Not far from here, if you still wanted the answer to that question of yours."

With a clearer mind, Maddox may have hesitated at giving such an offer. Just having her hands on him while she sat in his lap, their mouths entangled, he'd surely already pressed his luck. A kiss was easily overlooked. In the morning, it would require little more than a laugh, perhaps a light shove, then the return to normalcy that his more level-headed self had learned to operate in. What he proposed was much more dangerous, should things fall apart when the first rays of the sun made their way into the sky.

By all rights, the very thought should have terrified him. What he had with Julia wasn't easily found in anyone else. Losing came with real costs...costs...he couldn't quite work through with her hand in his hair.

He was feeling the right kind of reckless, the kind that flooded him with heat and longing for the woman he could scarcely keep his hands off in the moment. It took the last of his restraint to keep his hands in respectable places, and that stemmed from the respect he still held for her. This wasn't the setting for such things, and he would never have anyone thinking less of her for their display.

"Don't say no." He urged quietly, sure he would be in hell if this all suddenly came to a grounding halt. He could probably sleep it off, but even that ship felt as if it had already sailed.

The newness of his need staggered him, but not as thoroughly as it enchanted him.

It was the sort of rush that took over with an unexpected heat, blurring all thought and reason until all that was left was instinct.

Julia wasn't a woman prone to recklessness or spontaneous acts, preferring to keep her life fairly lowkey and structured. Following her father's and brother's deaths and especially after her divorce, Julia had thrown all of her focus and energy into her work and children, learning how to become a mother while balancing all of her responsibilities to her home and family. There wasn't room for drunken nights or stolen kisses with her friend or even a date for that matter.

And yet, here she was. If anyone had asked her how she'd gotten here, she wasn't sure she'd be able to answer.

Not that she was complaining. Maddox was - as expected - a phenomenal kisser. His scent of evergreen and vetiver filled her senses, drowning her in sensory overload as her fingertips raked through his hair. She didn't know where all of this was going - maybe nowhere and they'd have an awkward laugh over it in the coming week - but for now she was too caught up in the way his lips enveloped hers to give it much consideration.

"I know a place. Not far from here, if you still wanted the answer to that question of yours."

Those evocative blue eyes seared into her own, an unfamiliar haze in them that she'd never seen before. During their friendship, the two had never been the type to refrain from touching. Whether he was looping his arm with hers, or she was giving him a brief dismissive kiss on the cheek, it had all been platonic. Even in the moments when they'd been playful, and she'd sat herself on his lap when he'd taken up all the space on her sofa, it had never felt like this, smoldering and ready to catch the wind with a vicious roar.

For the first time that night, Julia hesitated. Her lips tightened as he brushed the hair out of her face, worry taking over that if they played with fire one of them, if not both, were bound to get burned. In a sober clarity, perhaps she would have recognized the bad idea this was and politely removed herself from his lap, telling him they needed to get back to the castle before it got ungodly late.

But now, with her eyes drifting back down to his lips, eager to have him again?

"Don't say no."

It was the green light she needed. He wanted her, and for the first time, Julia was recognizing that she wanted him too. Had she wanted him longer than the past few hours they'd been downing alcohol like it was water? In her haze, she couldn't decipher and didn't truly care to.

All she knew was that she wasn't ready to peel herself away from him, now that she'd had a taste.

She smiled, bringing her lips back to his, "Lead the way."

Tuesday, March 15, 1921
Room 213, Lochside Rest Inn
11:08 AM

…

…..Fuck.

It was too bright.

The curtains that had been left open the night before, bathing the room in the moon’s pale light, had become the bane of his existence with the coming of the new day. He should’ve had the presence of mind to close them before falling asleep, fully aware of the sun’s penchant for rising every morning. Then again, Maddox didn’t remember falling asleep. At some point, his eyes must’ve closed. The next thing he knew, he was being assaulted by the bright light of the late morning.

His head felt like it was being split in two. Blue eyes that fixed themselves on the unassuming ceiling burned, though whether from unfinished sleep or the same demon that brought the headache, he couldn’t say.

He was getting too old for this shit. Staying out. Drinking…

Drinking.

With Julia.

Had she gone home? Was he home? No…no, no, there was still a third of the school year left. None of them was going home, no matter how much they wanted to. But then…?

He didn’t want to get up. Maddox didn’t know where he was or what time it was, he was lucky to remember his name through the throbbing pangs of pain that radiated from the front of his head. The man pressed a palm there, trying to ease some of the pressure building. His throat was dry, creating its own burn.

In the stillness of the room, he grew more alert. He could hear the birds outside—too loud. He could hear the murmurs from the corridor—-go away. The ticking of the small clock that sat by the bed in the alcove. After 11. Fuck. The sound of breathing, steady at first then more irregular with each second that ticked by, alerting him to the presence of someone else in the bed. Circe sake. When did he find the time to meet someone? He and Julia had been at the bar until…until…it hurt too much trying to remember.

The man’s head lolled lazily to the side atop the pillow he occupied, ready to see the damage of the previous night. Blue pools met warm honey and for a second—only the briefest moment—he froze. Suddenly, the night that had once seemed so elusive to him came flooding back. The images came in patches at first, then in reels, scene after scene reheating the blood inside his veins.

He hummed low, his eyes closing as if he meant to go back to sleep but Maddox was quite awake now.

“Not a dream then,” he mumbled.

If he wasn’t convinced he was dying, he would be amused.

What time was it?

Curled up on her side, dark eyelashes fluttered against the sunlight drifting through the glass window panes. The cotton curtains billowed gently with the breeze that streamed from the cracked frame, as honey irises struggled to come into focus. Sounds - unfamiliar - of muggle cars and conversation from outside. Light colors and fabrics, pale blues and modest furnishings.

Not hers.

The woman grimaced at the sudden ache that spread from her eyes to the center of her head. Where was she? Julia ran an exhausted hand across her face, pushing her hair back and trying to make sense of anything. The sheets wrapped around her were white linen, scented of fresh soap and...

Another scent suddenly filled her senses. Familiar. Clean. Evergreen and vetiver.

All at once, images flooded her. Strong hands on her waist and in her hair. The shine of moonlight on skin. Lips that wouldn't be parted. Addicting blue irises that bore into her soft brown.

Maddox.

Her breathing picked up slightly, as her eyes widened, realizing someone was stirring next to her. Clutching the sheets tightly around her chest, Julia glanced over her shoulder, catching movement from his hand. She rolled all the way over, facing him, her lips tightening into resignation. The pounding in her head escalated to throbbing levels as her eyes washed over him, realizing that it hadn't been an alcohol-induced dream.

It was an alcohol-induced reality.

When his head lolled over and their eyes met, Julia froze with him. For the briefest moment, he seemed just as surprised as she was.

Merlin. What had they done?

A stupid question. She knew what they had done.

“Not a dream then.”

"Not a dream," she echoed softly, closing her eyes and letting out a light groan. Great. She'd meant to take him to the hospital and somewhere along the route, she'd ended up in a bed with him. Never let it be said Julia Laurence wasn't spontaneous. She buried her face into the pillow, willing the pain away. She needed to eat, needed to drink - water, and soak up whatever lingering liquid courage remained.

This wasn't like her. She didn't make it a habit of fucking her friends, and the casual encounters she did have? She never stayed the night, often choosing to leave immediately after.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, a small smirk playing on her lips. "I didn't know you had a crush on me, mon soleil."

Could he still blame the alcohol if he was sober?

Julia confirmed it wasn't a dream; her naked frame hidden under the covers that she clung to seconded that reality. Smooth skin, gentle curves, those eyes that asked things of him, they were more than fabrications. They'd carved themselves beneath his bones, searing into his soul where he didn't know if he'd ever be able to dislodge them.

Would he ever stop hearing those delicate sounds? Would he ever rid himself of the sweet mixture of orange and vanilla?

Did he want to?

It had been so easy to convince himself, tangled in the throes of poorly tempered passion, that he'd fallen into some lucid dream built on the backbones of an attraction he'd never thought to give voice to. His best friend was just that, his best friend. Would there ever be more? Maddox never imagined it, not in any concrete terms and now it seemed all his aching mind would return to. While his head screamed for hydration, his body screamed for more.

The places they'd been, he longed for them now, but his limits were hard ones, and there were more pressing needs that he could no longer ignore.

When his eyes opened, it was to that smirk playing at the corner of her lips.

"I didn't know you had a crush on me, mon soleil."

He laughed before his head reminded him of the sort of morning he was having. It cut the humour short, the man wincing from the sudden stab of pain. What a time to be half dead. Even with the aches that took him, Maddox found a warm relief slowly seeping through his limbs. It made it all a bit more bearable, realising that Julia wasn't wallowing. She wasn't wide-eyed with terror at what they'd done, stuttering and stumbling to take it all back.

He could handle anything else--welcomed the way both so seamlessly took it on the chin as if they hadn't spent the night trampling over their own lines they'd once drawn in the sand.

"A crush."

He forced himself into a sitting position, groaning lightly at the way his head spun. The covers fell from him, landing in his lap to reveal a chest covered in thin, red scratches that provoked a deeper humour and something akin to...satisfaction. Maddox buried his face in his palm for a moment, willing the world around him to steady. "I don't think anyone would consider anything we did last night a crush." Sure, he'd held her hand, but he didn't suppose having them pinned counted much in that regard. Turning his head to the side, blue eyes met hers again, a shimmer of amusement breaking through.

"You've got the voice of an angel, love," he teased in that lazy drawl of his. "Tell me I'll get to hear you again, and I'll die a happy man."

The voice of an angel. It took every bit of willpower for Julia to keep from rolling her eyes, even as her laugh muffled into the pillow. "Nobody needs to die," she murmured, purposely avoiding answering the question. Would she do it again? Last night had certainly been one to remember, now that it replayed itself vividly behind her eyes.

Maddox was her best friend. Through thick and thin, ups and downs, laughs and a few tears, he had been constant for her, and she for him. He was who kept her sane when the politics of Hogwarts threatened a clear mind. She was who stayed up all night with him, soothing a fussy baby when all other avenues had been exhausted. They were who each other gravitated towards when something funny happened, or a class had gone wrong, or their children were a mess.

She didn't want to lose that.

There wasn't any fear or regrets coursing through her, despite it all. She knew she'd done exactly what she wanted to, no more or less. She turned her head to look at him again, watching as he sat up and the sheet fell away from his strong, muscular chest. She caught a few red lines marking his skin, and she drew her lips into her mouth with amusement. "Sorry about that," she said, her voice making it clear she wasn't sorry in the least. Now he had something to remember her by, every time he looked in the mirror. For the next day or so anyway.

"If not a crush," she sighed, wincing slightly as she sat up as well, still holding the sheets tightly around her chest. Despite their activities into the wee hours of the morning, she was certain everything would look a little different in the daylight with sober eyes. "Then what would you 'consider it'?"

She sat back against the headboard, her smile widening, revealing the dimples on her cheeks, as she tried to quiet the pounding in her head. Did this little inn have room service? Or at least the decency to bring up water for its poorly decisive tenants?

"If tongues weren't wagging before, they certainly will be now." Especially when the two wandered back through the castle gates in a half-dead state.

"Nobody needs to die."

Indeed.

But then they had to don the coat of responsible adults again and take care of the stabbing pain that plagued them equally. The man couldn't remember the last time he felt like this, but he also couldn't remember the last time he felt like this, or the last time he'd let himself wake up to someone. A night of fun was seldom worth remaining for the morning after. The questions. Would they meet again? Would he owl or give her a call? Did he want to grab breakfast before they parted ways? It wasn't that he didn't want to do any of those things individually, but Maddox had travelled the world and met many women. Often, they were looking for something beyond breakfast and a friendly letter, something he knew he wasn't prepared to offer.

Why ruin a good time when he could remove himself before it ever got there?

He hadn't left, though. Not this time. Warmed by the risen sun that bore its way through the uncurtained window, Maddox was faced with the remnants of what he'd done--what they'd done. In the lull of the quiet morning, the man had braced for the familiar pang of regret that came with remaining too long where he had no business, but it never came.

Instead, he was flooded with phantom touches along his skin. Invisible hands climbed his chest, sweeping onto his back...tugging him with faint urgency that paled in comparison to the fervour of the previous night.

Was it wrong? Was he meant to be worried about things changing? Maddox didn't consider himself naive by any means and didn't fall into frivolous thinking stoked by the whimsy of lingering pleasure. Despite the spinning in his head, he felt a certain clarity--a conviction rather. He wasn't sorry, didn't think there was anything to be sorry for. Absent the full extent of his senses, Maddox had offered Julia the kind of authenticity the light of day often insisted on hiding for the sake of letting caution and common sense reign.

But he'd meant to. The man wasn't suddenly questioning his motives, nor was he trying to decipher that which stirred something deeply primal in him. All that thinking, that over-rationalisation was for the birds.

Maddox had meant every thrust.

"Sorry about that."

He reached a hand over to cup her face, his thumb brushing lightly against her lower lip. "Good thing we both know you aren't."

His hand fell as she moved to rest against the headboard. There she went, trying to think.

"If not a crush, then what would you 'consider it'?"

"Mmm." It wasn't meant to be a response, only a means of filling the air with sound and easing some of the tension in his head as he moved to lie in her covered lap. She still smelled so good. He tugged at the edges of the sheets she clung to, right by where her fingers curled into the fabric. "Who said I've considered it anything? Who said it needs to be considered?" he asked airily. "I had a phenomenal time with a beautiful woman and I'll probably spend the week thinking about it...about her...about her legs wrapped around me--simple things, you see. I'll have to tell you all about it when we get back to the castle."

Maddox had never been a man to go looking for complications, always preferring to lead a simple life. It was one of the reasons he'd gravitated to creatures. For all their complexities, they were exceedingly simple. He worked alone in the barn for the simplicity of the gesture, just him and his hands whiling away the hours while the world turned. He slept in her office, an innocuous black cat not there to make waves but to enjoy the company of his friend without what had been the complication of her marriage.

"If tongues weren't wagging before, they certainly will be now."

He scoffed lightly. "Let them. We can't be the only gossips in the castle. We were beginning to gain a reputation for ourselves that could rival the portraits."

A slight shiver ran through her as his thumb grazed over her lip, triggering memories of the way he tasted. "Not in the slightest," she answered as his hand dropped from her face. She sighed softly, letting the quiet pass between them. It wasn't uncomfortable like one might expect. Rather, there was an ease Julia felt, even in a situation such as this, especially seeing how relaxed Maddox was about all of it.

As he laid across her lap, his head settling in comfortably on her legs, she smiled softly, dropping a hand to his hair. The other remained firm on the sheet around her chest, even as he tugged on it. She wasn't giving him a show that easily. "Paws off," she grinned, a few fingers nudging his hand away from the sheet.

"I had a phenomenal time with a beautiful woman and I'll probably spend the week thinking about it...about her...about her legs wrapped around me--simple things, you see. I'll have to tell you all about it when we get back to the castle."

"Will you?" she asked, taking no effort to hide the smug expression that spread across her features. Her fingers swam softly through the strands of his hair, an intimate gesture that she'd never thought to do, but finding that - like last night - there were many new things she enjoyed with Maddox. "It was a great time," she agreed, honey eyes resting on sky blue. One that she knew she wouldn't quickly put out of her mind as she did most others.

She wouldn't say she was the love-them-and-leave-them type. Love had to be present for that. She was more of the type that didn't see a need in making things more complicated than they should be. Julia's life was complicated enough, and she had brought much of it on herself in the past few years. This...was nice. And easy.

And surprisingly comfortable.

"Let them. We can't be the only gossips in the castle. We were beginning to gain a reputation for ourselves that could rival the portraits."

She laughed, despite the way her head screamed at her for doing so. "Since when do we care what people think?" she asked. Julia understood well that appearances were everything and that there were certain expectations and standards she was to meet for the good of her family but - at the same time, she was a grown woman. And she was of the mind that if James didn't like something she did, he'd get over it, as easily as she got over the stupid things he did.

She hesitated for a moment, not knowing if it had just been the alcohol that had pushed Maddox to proposition her the way he had, but there was really one way to find out. She remembered clearly what a great kisser he was, and she was a bit impatient to see if that carried on into daylight. "Have either of us ever been known to take their opinions into consideration?"

If he didn't like it, or want it, he would tell her, and it would be fine.

She leaned down, her fingers tightening slightly in his hair as she captured his lips for her own.

Julia nudged his hand away. He moved it back, his fingers engaging hers in a languid dance with no real end. What a difference sobriety could make. The night before, his friend had peeled herself out of her dress before he could, leading him toward their current position while his lungs had struggled for air. Now, enough of her senses had returned for her to remember how difficult she liked being for the sake of it. And there he was, remembering how persistent he could be when he thought the prize was worth it.

What he'd seen the night before was a convincing argument on his own. The man hadn't yet gotten an eyeful and didn't think he would anytime soon.

"You'll have to get dressed at some point," he pointed out, forever the helpful friend, providing guidance and helpful reminders lest she forget that her dress and all her other little fixings lay sprawled around the room--her wand, too. Maddox vaguely remembered the clatter that it had made as it hit the wooden flooring. It had rolled a few turns before falling out of the man's field of focus. "Unless you'd fancy heading back to the castle wrapped in sheets. Irene might not like that."

The woman was likely already fussing down at the counter. It wasn't the first time Maddox had slept beyond the time designated for checking out. The well-meaning but ornery woman used to come knocking--banging--on the doors to the rooms he'd rented. Somewhere along the lines, they'd gained an understanding. She didn't necessarily like it, but he was willing to add a bit extra to his bill to compensate her for her trouble.

Maddox let out a soft exhale as her fingers found his hair, getting too comfortable for one who was meant to be getting up. For many reasons, they couldn't remain there all day, but it was hard to find the urgency needed to rise when everything felt so...normal. The transition was insidious. They'd left the castle knowing firmly what they did and didn't do within the parameters of their relationship, yet there he lay with the feeling that this had always been reality despite knowing well enough that it wasn't.

But, wasn't it? The man had always been comfortable around his best friend. They'd shared hard moments, fun moments, moments that neither thought they would survive, and they'd always done it with the same ease that floated between them now.

It was as soothing as it was intoxicating, and a little part of him leapt at the idea that this could so seamlessly be integrated into who they already were without fear of what it might do to their dynamic or the awkwardness that might have found others who were themselves in the same situation without the years of foundation building behind it.

Even better, she agreed it was a great time. It could only bode well for future prospects. It was easy to think there would be future chances while heavily under the influence, but the sober promise was the one worth holding onto.

"Have either of us ever been known to take their opinions into consideration?"

If the question had been meant for him, she certainly hadn't made it clear. As his lips parted to affirm their disinterest in the judgments of others, he found them suddenly and blissfully occupied by hers. Maddox didn't miss a beat. One hand tangled in her hair, keeping her close while he reacquainted himself with the taste of her mouth.

Sweet as ever.

She would have to get dressed, yes. At some point, Julia would have to find a way to climb out of this bed without her friend catching a glimpse of her. Her clothes - and his - were scattered all around the room, having been tossed and kicked in whatever direction had seemed to suit them at the time of removal. Some things were still a little hazy. Watching Maddox's shirt come up over his head wasn't one of them.

"You'll look away like the gentleman we both know you aren't." He'd got enough of an eyeful last night that would surely tide him over and keep him warm at night. A last glimpse in the late morning sun wasn't needed. Though she'd be a liar if she said she wasn't looking forward to seeing a little more of him before they left here. Just a small look.

A friendly look, one might say.

His lips were as soft as she remembered, his kiss as strong and inviting as it had been the night before. The faint taste of liquor still lingered between them, reminding Julia of what had led them here in the first place. She hummed lightly as his hand found her hair, her own hand drifting from his soft strands, down his face, committing every inch to her memory.

There was something different about it - kissing Maddox. While it still managed to to cause arrhythmic beating within her chest and twist her stomach into feeling something warm and exciting, there was also something gentle about it all. Something comforting and safe about it that she hadn't really felt in a long time. He cared about her and respected her, the same as she cared for and respected him. Neither were out to hurt or play games with one another.

This was fun, and it was obvious, by the way their lips brushed one another's, that they were on the same page. No complications. No awkwardness. No need for conversations that only led to confusion and heartache. They were friends, with a few extra benefits.

What could go wrong?

"We should go. Rosie's probably wondering where we are," she murmured against his lips, her eyes smiling down into his, indicating she wasn't quite as ready as she insisted.

Another kiss, as he tugged again at the sheet. Another nudge away with her fingers.