Please Be Open

[alfonztytusjedynak]

May15, 2008
Middle of the school day, all classes in session

An office she was rarely ever in, but Alfonz only could hope she would be at that moment. What did he need? Nothing really, but with his job at the moment being very limited in what he was doing, and none of the other staff members really conversing with him, Alfonz found himself wandering the halls in the middle of the day when not even Celina could keep his attention due to the fact that she was in classes. At the moment, Alfonz wasn’t even scheming anything against her friends…and as most whom read these threads know…that’s was a first.

Actually, there was one reason he was going to see the Head Mistress that day, and one very important one at that. He had promised a Mr. Rolen that recruits would be at the next quidditch game, and also promised others that there would actually be a quidditch game to look forward to. That was not something he had seen or even heard of happening, and his so-called boss didn’t seem like he had any idea of how to even put together a game. Alfonz snorted to himself at the lack of duty he found Chadwick to have. Not to mention, it put a rather large dent in Alfonz’s blackmailing if there was no game, which meant no recruits and Rolen could open his big mouth.

That was a problem, and there had to be a game otherwise it could have utterly disastrous consequences. Alfonz swore he was cursed…that was the only, rather superstitious, but the only explanation anymore that Alfonz had. That and the ‘bad-guys-never-win’ scenario, but Alfonz would smirk as he thought about who had the girl. If he were such a bad guy, would he get the attention of so many desirable, smart, and ultimately alluring women? Not that he was a bad guy he just liked his privacy and not many people. Was it so wrong to be anti-social and think that everyone was beneath you until they proved otherwise? Again, Alfonz would have said no.

And so, he was on his way up to the Head Mistress’ office on the seventh floor. He had heard it was less used by her, and yet, he hoped that meant less used by most. All he needed was someone to be walking on their discussion. True, most of it would be on the typical conversations about the job and so on and so forth, but Alfonz couldn’t help but think that every meeting with Raynor was becoming a bit more…intimate, than any of them actually realized until it was happening. Another smile crossed Alfonz’s face. To say that he wasn’t in the least bit enthralled about the opportunities would have been a lie, for again he liked to ask himself…what else for a co-ref to do when there was no quidditch to ref or get ready for any ways?

That would hopefully change. He’d see to a last game. For Celina and himself, he had to. Otherwise, Rolen could seriously ruin everything he had even accomplished that year…the little that it actually seemed that it was.

Alfonz found the entrance to Raynor's office and breathed out slowly thinking about all he had to discuss with her, trying not to think about a few weeeks or so prior when she had met him out in Hogsmeade (April was one hell of a month). There were things that had to be discussed and usually he was pretty good at keeping his mind straight. This was going to be difficult....

....the twenty one year old could already tell.

[Closed]

[Tamis Raynor]

Tea had oddly curative powers on both the mind and the soul. It was physically occupying; she could sip at it and savor the taste in small intervals to distract or entertain herself throughout the course of the everyday. It was fulfilling; the way the brew would flutter down the throat and then spread a warm contentment through the stomach. And, it was very receptive to a large variety of herbs, and Tam was able to draw on her knowledge of herb lore to create the perfect infusion as it was needed. Today it was a mixture of lavender and chamomile flowers and a decent dose of Valerian root. The result was a calming effective on the soul. It took the bite off her nerves and allowed her to relax, with a bit heavier dosage it would even help induce sleep. Even though it was in the middle of the day, it did not seem like a completely horrible idea.

For on this day, Tamis Raynor had officially claimed a day off. Yes, you read that right and probably re-read it correctly as well. Tamis. Raynor. Was. Taking. A. Day. Off. But not willingly. It was a conclusion she had reasonably reached when she realized that she had made the brew a bit stronger than she originally intended -- that had been when she was still reasonable.

The door to the circular office was wide open, allowing the distinct scent and flavors of the tea to float down the currently docile moving staircase and halt behind the stone Gargoyle of which, unbeknownst to Raynor, Alfonz Jedynak was currently standing on the other side of. It was quite the perfect solution. For only the staff members and a very select number of students had the password and none of them would bother her in this office without just cause, making it the prefect refuge. But if they so happened to need her, the door was open, and they could invite themselves in despite what ever state she might be in.

The petite woman was currently seated lazily behind her desk, swirling a finger through the steam of the half finished cup on the wooden surface. Her palm of her other hand was pressed into her right cheek, as her elbow attached to said arm supported the deadweight of her head. Her hair had a recently washed quality to it and the still prevalent reek of shampoo clinging to the drying locks suggested she had taken a shower not many hours ago, and while she was fully dressed, the infamous pink bunny slippers were making a reappearance; their black beady eyes peeked out from under the hem of her semi-formal robes, long flapping ears currently at rest.

The world was in a pleasant little haze and getting hazier as the effects of the tea set in. For the first time in many weeks, all of her nerves were at rest, her breathing was deep and heavy, and she felt like humming a little tune. Robert himself could walk through the door just then, morph into You-Know-Who reincarnated, and she would still offer him a platter of nonexistent biscuits.

From somewhere over her head, a couple of the portraits were cracking their eyes at her. Phineas Nigellus Black particularly looked like a child abandoned in a candy shop, but whenever he opened his mouth to put words to the devilish gleam in his eye, another portrait’s hand reached out to clamp over his mouth. Completely oblivious, the Headmistress traced words in the steam, watching its misty curls in a trance with heavily hooded eyes.

May Merlin have pity on any soul that tried to get an intelligent conversation out of her. Next time, she would actually measure the herbs, and not rely on an eyeballing skill that was thirteen years rusty.

[alfonztytusjedynak]

As Alfonz stood at the Gargoyle he stretched into the back of his mind for the password that Raynor had given him just days earlier. It wasn’t something she gave out to everyone she said, and so if this was the door that he was going to be making his presence known at, then it was supposed to be important. And to Alfonz, keeping his identity as private as possible, for Celina’s sake, let alone his own was as important of an issue as they came for Alfonz. He needed that quidditch game for his own sake, never mind the students whom actually wanted the pitch reopened.

“Kailee,” Alfonz spoke out the middle name of the child Raynor had brought into this hell of a world. For that, he gave her credit. Alfonz also gave her credit for her strength dealing with as the situation with her. Though he didn’t know much of it, just what everyone else knew, and her feelings about it (of which he assumed after their time in Hogsmeade), Alfonz didn’t know how the woman still stood. She had done something Alfonz could never imagine to do with Celina. Left her behind and with someone else. Alfonz couldn’t imagine anyone being worthy enough, or strong enough to protect Celina other than himself. Maybe Raynor had just gotten lucky to find someone for her daughter.

The Gargoyle allowed him passage and he walked up the stairs passed it, pushing all thoughts of Celina and giving her up to anyone away. Why he’d ever think of such things, he’d never know. But with all the events that had taken place in the past few months, Shaw’s threats were like a sharp object to the older Jedynak’s throat. Alfonz had to find someway out…without involving anyone else.

“Head Mistress?” Alfonz questioned as he slowly walked into the open door of the office and saw Raynor with her head rested against her hand on her desk. It was slightly disconcerting with the thoughts that Alfonz was just having, but he really didn’t think anything more was wrong with her than just sleep deprivation. Alfonz smirked as he wondered what then could be keeping the Head Mistress up at night.

Walking up to the desk, Alfonz leaned on it putting the upper part of his leg up and sat on the desk. He had done the same thing in van Aller’s office and she hadn’t taken too kindly to it, but then again…Raynor was different, and it didn’t look like she was too conscious at what was going on in her own office. “Tamis? Are you alright?” he asked of her, now a bit more concerned than even before but what was it any of his business…

Other than the quidditch game he needed to get permission for…there was no other business.

“I have to discuss something about the quidditch pitch….” He started.

[Tamis Raynor]

The wisps of steam flipped and twirled in an acrobatic dance away from the warmth of the cup. A light, hazy essence with no real substance that rose from the dark, murky liquid below; it had no real purpose in life, but in her current state, it had Raynor enthralled. A sheer ethereal creation was born of something entirely more solid and repulsive in appearance at the simple application of heat. Even the brew itself was bitter, unsweetened as to not tamper with the medicinal properties of the herbs… but the curls of steam that played under her nose were sweet and earthy. If only life were that simple, she thought contently. If everything on this earth was a simple as a cup of tea, there would be no conflict; there would be eternal good in everyone. But even the tea was not as simple as she fancied it to be. It took heat to create the steam, and the steam was not the same substances as the tea in the end; it had to be changed.

But the world was not divided into good or evil, either. They were concepts of fairy tails. Conflict only had sides, and each side believed that it was fighting for the “right”; that what they were doing was ethical and moralistic to benefit society. Perhaps the tea did not resemble an inner truth, but rather a simple surface level one; there was no resolve to conflict, one just ultimately changed shape to become the favorable opinion after pressure was applied and demanded a winner. Status qou was once again superior. The way one’s mind wandered when left to its own relaxed devices was astounding. No more soothing teas.

“Tamis? Are you alright?”

That startled her out of her stupor. And, when saying “startled”, she lifted her head, breaking eye contact with the porcelain cup, and therefore her trance. She found herself looking up into the face of Alfonz Jedynak, brow creased slightly in resemblance of concern, though those dark eyes of his remained relatively expressionless. Black hair, dark features, tall, and with well structured shoulders and fine features, she had never truly realized how attractive the man was until that moment. And that was using “attractive” in purely the shallow sense, as she had always been drawn to him in other ways. Bah. No. No more valerian, it turned wits into mush.

“I have to discuss something about the quidditch pitch….”

Quidditch Pitch… yes, the large, sandy thing off to the south of the campus outfitted with ridiculous round hoops on either end. The corner of her lip twitched, it really had never occurred to her just how funny the pitch looked. What did muggleborns make of it in their first encounter? She shook her head; mind wandering again, she had two questions to answer.

“Yes, of course I’m all right,” she replied heavily and then frowned over the “discussion” concept of the pitch. “Did it get blown up again?” She ask indifferently, and then the frown took a tighter turn. Was that why he was here? It just occurred to her that it was unusual for him (or anyone for that matter) to be here. “Are you okay?” Her enchanted tea cup took her dormant cup to mean that she wanted it refilled again and swooped down to do so. Ah, right, she had forgot her manners.

“Tea?” She asked.

[alfonztytusjedynak]

Her grey eyes seemed even more cloudy than usual as she look up at him from her hand, her hair falling here and there and Alfonz couldn’t help but want to push it out of her face so that he could see her more clearly. However, he didn’t. There was something not right about the Head Mistress, and as concerned as Alfonz was about her, he was more so about what she would react to in her current state. Had she been drinking? From her outbursts about his own habit, Alfonz didn’t think that Tamis Raynor had ever touched a glass of alcohol, let alone becoming intoxicated by it. She didn’t seem like the type that would let herself indulge in it…but then, what was going on?

As he had mentioned the quidditch pitch, her expression barely changed, and her head shook. Was it an answer to not being alright? Or was it that she didn’t wish to speak about the quidditch pitch? Either way, Alfonz needed to discuss it, whether she liked it or not. It was his reputation on the line if she did not, and though he wasn’t too sure about what he could do as an assistant ref, he knew the pitch needed to be reopened.

And then she spoke, a slight rush of relief washed over the twenty one year old. However, she still didn’t seem herself. Her words seemed slow and forced, as if it was taking her mind ten times longer to ponder about what she was doing or thinking about. “Blown up?” Alfonz asked, not knowing the past of the pitch in general, and definitely not knowing about any time that the pitch had actually been blown up. He’d have to ask Celina later, for he highly doubted that anything he received from Raynor at that time would be anywhere near clear.

Are you okay?

The question startled him a bit, as Alfonz cocked his head and shrugged. He was alright, just in a bit of a pinch that he couldn’t explain. There was a seventeen-year-old git that could have Alfonz’s life in his hands, but other than that, he was fine. “Of course I am, why would I not be?” he questioned the Head Mistress back as she offered him…..tea?

“Tea? Is that all that is?” Alfonz asked, still thinking that it must have been spiked with a bit more than just tea. But then again, what was that smell that was lingering in the atmosphere of the room? Alfonz never was good with what scents went with what herbs and spices.

“What is in it?” he asked, still not thinking he’d take a glass…but there was something really odd about this whole situation.

[Tamis Raynor]

“Blown up,” She agreed simply, as if it were a perfectly acceptable occurrence to happen. “Hailey left. Is that a no?” A frown creased her lips. Had that even made sense? She was not quite sure that it had. But, so the Quidditch Pitch was not in shambles again. That was good. People did have a habit of wanting to destroy her property. Pitches. Doors. Gargoyles… The infatuation was incredible. She was not sure how many more ways she could blame the incidents on Robert to take them from his account rather than Hogwarts’. At least the door one was justifiable.

With her gaze no longer studying the tea cup, it went onto the next available source. There was nothing slender about the man before her; but she could not call him stocky either. Lean? Closer. Solid? That worked. His face lacked delicate qualities as well, but had the prominent thicker structure characteristic of the male gender, yet still managed to maintain an angular, athletic appeal. While still clean shaven, there was just the slightest shadow of a returning beard that would probably ruin that image if not tended to in the next couple of days. But the most intriguing feature was a little more north. She let her eyes met his; brown and allusive, they always seemed to be suffer five different emotions at once. Currently they shone with something she doubted the average person ever saw; concern? The slight pucker of skin, barely noticeable, between his eyebrows supported the conclusion.

Concerned, was he? Why? His lips were moving and she forced herself to concentrate on the words.

“Of course I am, why would I not be?”. Another frown creased her lips as she considered the answer. He was not concerned about his well being. The Quidditch Pitch then, yes, he brought that up. But it wasn’t blown up, he said. So, after a long, drawn out moment, she allowed her shoulders to shrug, head dipping with it as the hand supporting her head shifted in compliance to the simple movement. “No reason, I suppose,” she lied.

At the questioning of the tea, her gaze dropped back down to it, considering the still swirling wisps drifting up from it; though there was considerably less of them now. Perhaps the application of pressure to obtain results was just as shot lived? If the heat did not continue to be applied, it would eventually cool, and the change of the matter would stop. She pondered on that for a bit as she nodded slowly to his question. Yes. It was tea. Tea that she never should have had, there was no doubt that she really was needed elsewhere in the school.

“What is in it?”

A pause for thought, “Chamomile.” Pause. “Lavender.” Pause. “Valerian.” Another pause as she reflected on the fact that he might not know what she was talking about. “Calming herbs, good for relaxation; non-addictive.” Yes. That was a rather efficient description, if she did say so herself. She believed she had hit all the major points. She had mentioned it was a bit too strong, correct? Of course she had.

[alfonztytusjedynak]

Well the pitch was certainly in tact, just not getting any use. It was slightly why Alfonz was there in the first place. However, this tea, or whatever she was drinking was making her groggier than Alfonz could almost not deal with. She was hardly even coherent. What was she talking about the pitch blowing up?

Taking no comfort in the explanation that Raynor had just give him, Alfonz fidgeted on the desk ledge that he sat sideways on. His hands together and on his lap, he leaned most of his weight toward his superior and tilted his head slightly. It was evident that she was searching for something in the back of her mind about him, as she looked him up and down but then shook her concern about him off. Alfonz needed that pitch open, but somehow….he didn’t think it’d be that hard to get it, after all.

“So, then…” Alfonz paused, regaining his composure. “the pitch is fine, and I do note, game worthy. I think there should be a final game of the year to help get recruits looking at our teams players.” It wasn’t too fast, but Alfonz didn’t say his thoughts any slower. He felt almost juvenile; as if asking his mother for a new broom they had just seen in the broom shop.

He wasn’t juvenile, nor was he unintelligent to think of Raynor as his mother or could ever be. In this world, in this game, she was his peer, and both had equally found that the other was worthy of a sport that neither had thought would come from the other. So, then…why the hesitation on his part?

“No, thanks…” he said about the tea. If that were what it did to Tamis, he wouldn’t want to see what it would do to him. Before he knew it, he’d be laying on the floor, or letting something slip that wasn’t for her ears. Alfonz respected and trusted Tamis as much as the boy could come to let go of himself to do so, but he wasn’t about to become fully an idiot.

“So…” a smirk played on Alfonz lips as he slipped his wand out of his pocket and waving it for the door to be shut. Why he had forgotten such things, he’d never know. After all, all Alfonz needed was someone to just see him sitting on the Head Mistress’ desk for their to be words said. Let alone anything else that Alfonz was about to play with.

The game begun again, and he had the ball.

“…herbs for relaxation….sounds interesting.” Every word growled in tease, and Alfonz wondered if in Raynor’s state she’d even be up for a round. But one would never know until they threw the ball and tried to score a goal either; now did they?

[Tamis Raynor]

The younger man leaned in; his tilted head straightening in her line of vision with the way her own head was held up by one hand. Everything beyond him however remained at a slant with a slight haze of indifference to it. She did not flinch away at the invasion of personal space. Though even if she had not been feeling particularly at peace with the world, she doubted the man would ever be able to “invade” her little bubble of comfort zone after Hogsmeade. No, instead her gray eyes lifted to view him at his new angle, a question in their depths as he shifted uncomfortably on his perch. She almost frowned. He was behaving like one of her students would when they were about to tell her one of them had did something and she was not going to like it. Except, she did not think of him as a student; even though he was old enough to have been one of hers.

She was about to put voice to her inquiry when he answered it for her. Or she though he did. Tamis sat there for a long moment, eyes glazing over as she extracted herself from the physical world, trying to rewind the words and piece them all together. Then she would try to make sense of them. Quidditch again. No mention of explosions. Students. Recruits. Game?

“Quidditch game… for scouts?” She repeated dumbly with another pause as she stewed over it. Her brain did not like being worked however and it complained something fierce and she shook it, attempting to make it do her bidding. She did not exactly win and the room shifted side to side briefly, but she did not exactly lose either. Yes, she had been considering that herself and had contemplating asking Embers about it… the students had been through a lot. Did she want to responsible for hindering those that wanted to make a profession out of the game? There was one little problem though…

“If you can do it without houses bickering.” She responded, not saying yes, but not saying no, and there was a fifty percent chance she did not know what she was saying at all.

There was another long pause as she tried to remember why it was banned in the first place. Dangerous? Not enough security? Oh, something mediocre like that. It had been important at the time, and probably would be again later and –

“…herbs for relaxation….sounds interesting.”

-- she would probably regret not remembering now. So, she needed to tell him more. Yes, her mind strained again. “Security needed. No more will get hurt. Move pitch closer –“

She finally cut off, registering the tone more than the words. Her head fell back heavier on her hand, so that it lifted up more and she could study his expression better. She could have misunderstood, however. Anything was possible. So, in her current nonchalant state, she did the perfectly reasonable thing when one had a question; she asked it.

“Did we switch sports?”

[alfonztytusjedynak]

Permission granted.

Alfonz sighed in relief, though it still didn’t seem as though Raynor was as coherent as he would have liked for the discussion. She kept starring off into space, or rather, searching her mind for such things that really made no sense to Alfonz. How much of the herbs had she put into that tea? Alfonz wasn’t about to ask, though he highly doubted the chemicals were not addictive. Just one look at the woman and he could tell that she was a bit….over indulging herself, to put it nicely.

“Consider it done,” Alfonz blatantly stated. He had never really referred a game before, nor put one together, but Alfonz was sure he could come up with something. The game just needed to be played, and Rolen needed to be picked out. No problem. He’d get Celina to help him; she would know how to be a bit more organized about it.

Alfonz tilted his head toward Tamis as she began to mumble to herself. He caught some of the words but some of them just didn’t make much sense to him. He shook it off and disregarded it as anything but the intoxication talking.

But when he jested with her, her look of confusion was evident. The herbs had relaxed her so much where she couldn’t even be sure of what he was doing. Alfonz was slightly discouraged. The toxins had obviously made her more relaxed as she had said, but it also made her off the edge of strength that he liked so much about her.

Standing, he walked around the desk, and after moving her glass away from her, he leaned against the desk next to where she sat. “Sport? I think that other than quidditch, I know not of what sport you’re referring to.” Alfonz played innocent. He had to see what she would do if he played oblivious, and yet, not so at the same time.

[Tamis Raynor]

The lukewarm cup of tea groaned softly as it was slid across the table and out of her reach. She did not move after it, nor was particularly worried about it. She had, after all, not touched in a good… half hour? No, it was non-addictive in the sense that she would not develop a dependency. Usually, she did use more moderation. She would make sure to measure directly from now on. So, its movement did not concern her, but the source behind it did. Her gaze followed him around her desk and when he removed the glass, she finally lifted her head from her hand, sitting up properly.

“Sport? I think that other than quidditch, I know not of what sport you’re referring to.”

It took her a moment longer than it would have normally, but her eyelids puckered, turning the gray beyond into slits as she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. Alfonz Jedynak might be many things, but “innocent” was not on the list. Even suffering with nonchalant indifference clouding her judgment, she could make that distinction. He was teasing her then. But was she in any condition to retaliate? The caused her a brief hesitation.

And, now… he was towering over her more than usual to boot with her sitting as was.

Bracing a hand on the desk, she used it as leverage to regain her feet. Relaxed muscles did not comply at first to this sudden and unexpected askance to work. There was a brief moment where she threatened to plop right back down again, but pure will alone kept her upright… well… at an angle. She was not technically “upright” until she released her support. A few precarious steps more, and she survived well enough.

Tilting her head, she viewed him through a thin veil of coffee colored hair, trying to figure out something once and for all that normally she would have calculated and caught onto within seconds; if that. His tone was innocent, but body language was suggesting otherwise. She frowned again, studying his eyes. Yes, just a hint of tease, though more or less indecision?

She was not that insensible.

“Then you are more naive than I presumed.” She responded, attempting the same tone.

It was a bit difficult to discern what happened next. She reached up to touch the side of his face, possibly a prelude to a kiss... And then, spoiling any possible mood at all, her knees buckled, not wanting to continue holding her weight. She reached out belatedly, missed the purchase of his robes, and fell back on the arm of her chair. She just managing to remember to catch the side of its back with a hand. There was a long pause for thought recollection. And then she laughed lightly, resting her head on the back of the chair, but not chancing releasing her hold on it.

“I think… I made it too strong.” She admitted, finally.

[alfonztytusjedynak]

Grey eyes met brown and both stormed with their own emotions and considerations. Alfonz looked into the Head Mistress’ eyes as he could tell hers were examining him precisely, as if to find exactly what he meant by his every word. His every tone and syllable. What did he mean? Well, what had he truly ventured into her office for? A quidditch game? Or was that just an excuse. Though, as he looked at the woman, he could see the light bulb going off in her head. Now what conclusion did she come to… Alfonz wondered to himself, a smirk coming on his face.

Then you are more naive than I presumed.

“Am I now?” again, Alfonz teased, the slight growl from the back of his voice evident that he knew exactly what sport they were involved in, however, sport wasn’t the term he would have classified it as himself. More, rather, it was an extracurricular activity. Sports were about winning…Alfonz already figured he had won by the time Tamis was responding back to all the taunts he laid out. The memories of the darkened Hogsmeade roadways filled his mind, as another smirk came across his face.

As Tamis started to stand, Alfonz did not help her at first. From what Alfonz had seen of this woman, she tended to be proud, and prideful on her strength. He allowed her to folly by herself, watching her closely, however, as she leaned ever so slightly rather than standing. “Are you going to enlighten me then to release me of my naivety?” he asked in a hushed tone as stood momentarily and then tried to caress his cheek.

When she fell back into the chair, it didn’t surprise Alfonz, but he still reached out with his arms, instinctively as if to catch the Head Mistress if she missed the chair completely. She laughed and all Alfonz could do was snicker in return, slightly shaking his head. At least one characteristic about the Head Mistress remained the same no matter the state she was in; her moves were still as jerky and rash. Standing back up from his somewhat bent over stance, Alfonz continued to smirk and shake his head, listening and enjoying the sound of Tamis’ light laughter.

It was weird how she of all people made him feel. Intrigued and yet, he wanted to delve deeper into her being to find out exactly who she was. There was an innocence within her; a child that so desperately had been beaten back by those whom had mistreated her. As much as Alfonz wished he hated people, he had to admit that there were some that just made him want to feel again. Unfortunately, long past events would make it so he would never without always mistrusting the other he was involved with. As much as he would want to get to know Tamis Raynor, he’d never be able to with his own blocks preventing him. He knew it would one day tear their…whatever they had, apart…just as it had his relationship with Shay.

Celina was the only one who understood him, and would never treat him as others had. However, it was also the reason he wanted to protect his younger sister so well. No others would hurt her…not like he knew they wanted to. It was instinctive. Humans would do anything to get above another…especially, ones who were not the strongest.

“Here…Come here,” Alfonz cooed, as he took Raynor’s hand that was bracing herself on the back of the chair. He positioned himself so that he was then in font of her, leaning back on her desk again. He pulled Tamis up from the chair she sat in, cupping her small frame with his other hand and arm and placing it around the smallest section of her back, just in case her legs decided to give out again. He pulled her close, wiping away the curtain of soft locks of hair that fell into her face.

“Is this where you wanted to be, Tamis?” he asked her, teasingly…his eyes swimming with…well, whatever she saw, would probably be enough for whatever she had had on her mind just then.

[Tamis Raynor]

How did the man walk through age old concrete barriers like they were gossamer? It was a question she was constantly asking herself. As she sat unintentionally back in the rather uncomfortable throne-like chair (as Headmistress, she seemed to have acquired a lot of those), she studied the smirk on his face and tried to discern if it was a good sign or a bad sign. Her results as of yet were inconclusive. For her entire life, she had crafted a wall, brick by brick until it was impossible to see one way or the other over it. Construction had temporarily stopped when Tait came into her life, and after she lost him… in the way she lost him… she started working twenty four hour shifts on it. And four years ago, Banks had attached the wall with a chisel – and created a few cracks that she had spackled. But Alfonz Jedynak, he came equipped with the sledgehammer.

Cool formality was her element, she was known for being a very private person. Yet, she felt the core of Tamis Raynor, the woman (and the little girl) that she had locked away so long ago chancing to peak her head out when she was alone with him. Was it because he was so much younger? Did not see her as infallible or wrong her for her flaws? Or was because for the first time in a long time… she could just be Tamis Raynor? She wasn’t sure. It was unusual… and she did not quite know what to call it. But in her current state, mind wandering freely, she could not help but feel slightly frustrated. For with all that, she really did not know who he was… and that had been her goal from the start; to find out who he was. She was not sure he would ever let her in… and could she blame him?

“Here…Come here.”

While she was still making sense of the words, and coming to grip with the fact that she was probably be incapable of completing that request, she was given the sudden solution as Alfonz hauled her to her feet, pulling her close with a hand secure on her back. As he pulled the film of hair from her face, she blinked rapidly; probably the closest semblance to shock he was going to get. Her pulse picked up, a miracle in itself with how many sedative herbs she had thrown into the pot.

“More-or-less,” she murmured in response, still quiet unsure of the situation as a whole.. It was impossible to say what was in his eyes, the only word she could describe them was with one his writer often gave hers; stormy. A mix of complex emotions she had no hope of unraveling on her own.

And… she still had a point to prove, especially after her little blunder there. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she used him for leverage to compensate for height difference, and brought her lips to his. She remembered him saying to her in Hogsmeade not to think… that was most certainly not a problem with the combination of herbs rattling her brains.

[alfonztytusjedynak]

This woman was bound to be his undoing, but at that moment Alfonz didn’t care. She was absolutely magnificent and strong. The side he viewed now was one that he had known her to have, and yet, he knew only few ever had seen it. It was almost a victory over all of the so-called men she had had in her life. If he were not engrossed within the current scenario, he would have smirked out of pure cockiness that he had won. But at the same time, there was more than just winning here….he was more enveloped within this game where it was no longer as such. And unfortunately, as much as he would deny it to anyone, and even himself…his body and mind knew it.

Tamis Raynor would be his undoing...and the slight groan from the back of his throat told them both that he wasn’t much in the mood for thinking about it. That was a time for no thought, no resistance…no fear of the future. Alfonz would have his way after all time was a precious virtue that usually ended in his favor. Had it not many times before?

As she had responded to him with the ‘more-or-less’ he had desired to hear, Alfonz had smirked and his eyes raged with so many thoughts and emotions where his mind was speechless. It couldn’t tell him otherwise of what he was doing. It was like children given permission the first time to do something on their own. Utterly shocked and speechless, but it gave Alfonz peace from the constant torments of his own thoughts. It was only another thing that Alfonz found that Raynor had been able to do; calm his restless mind to relax enough to let go just that much more.

Her arms around his neck she leaned up as he brought her closer, leaning forward to take what he felt was rightfully his to take at that time. She was his…and yet, the concept frightened him slightly. Again, it would never be something he would admit…but it did. She was superior to him in almost every way, and yet, still in his arms she stood. And leaning into him, she wanted just as much of him as it seemed he wanted her. The events were astounding and mind startling…and yet, due to her amazing ability to calm him…he worried not. Not during their encounters, however.

United, Alfonz tenderly continued the kiss and allowed Tamis to lead knowing that she needed to start somewhere. Gradually lifting his right hand from her lower back higher, a slight involuntary sound escaped the back of his throat. There was so much to worry about, but he figured he’d do that later. Right now, there was other business that needed his attention more.

[Jacob Corrion]

He was going to kill them, well, no he wouldn't, he would get those underling urchins called trainees to do it. There wasn't much of a difference really but between the Deva, drawing up rotations and "anti-panic" plans for that ruddy music festival in August, and the standard alcohol consumption he went through on a daily basis he would be lucky to remember the difference between a knut and a sickle. And of course it was NOW that someone from RaCoMC had to remind him of that "harmless departmental war" they'd started last October? Mind you it was a good comeback, if they took this long to get revenge he might be forced to wave the truce flag out of boredom...but then if he had nothing to hit them with there would be no point in shaking hands. It really was quite the sad thing when boredom of all things doomed one's plans for departmental conquest and domination.

Still, he had to concede that this would be difficult to top, now just what could be so despicable to get a generally angry man more angry? Well, since he's presently sober you can nox half the usual triggers off your list. In the end it would sum up to one word, well, three actually: Pixies and Filing Cabinets. You see, the normally pandemonic office became far more than that this morning when someone went to retrieve an old case file (something they seemed to have to constantly do of late). It ended pretty, but only if you enjoyed watching little adoreable winged demons pester the living daylights out of grown wizards. They weren't trained to deal with creatures, they were trained to deal with people, and since this was their war, the correct department told them (and when he'd left they still were) taking their sweet little time to do anyting about it. They probably wouldn't mop it up until sometime over the weekend, and that was if they felt generous. The point is, he needed solitude and he only knew of one REMOTE place to get it...even if it meant forcefully taking it...which it usually did.

She never changed her passowrd. Rather, she never used to and he hoped to Merlin she hadn't learned from those mistakes yet. It was a gambit, and one that held a rather high chance of being met by hexes at the door but this too, was normal, actually it was more customary than anything of late. Yes if Corrion had to say it, Tamis Raynor was a woman of predictability. The password checked out, the staircase as usual didn't rebel and the door was...locked? Well that was new, not unheard of but certainly new to the typical routine and while that stairway was rather quiet and peaceful he'd rahter not look like a lost puppy if someone else came knocking.

Besides, it was just a door...quite literally as within a moment he kicked it in. One didn't need a very strong door whe one had a stone statue at the base. Actually it looked like someone had messed with that too but it was too late to check such trivial matters now. He had a handful of folders with him and all he wanted was a corner, she was sure to be obliging right?

"Hope I'm not interrupting Tam, I know busy schedule and all just need a corner - old wounds opened pixies in the office and..." Through the door, hang a left and without acknowledgement claim a space while talking all the way. Simple, but effective, or it was until he turned around. So much for predictability.

"Hmm." A pause. "Well now, this is new...and different...certainly right odd...but mostly new. You know I really don't care...but you might want to whisper that stone guardian down there something new before you gallavant into something like this." Another pause. "I am staying by the way, but don't let me be a bother." And with that the papers came out and comparrisons began...while still being an inadvertant pain in the arse.

Merlin did his job have perks.

[Tamis Raynor]

Their lips connected, and he took on some of her weight, drawing her closer to him as he bent to receive the kiss. Until that moment, she had been unsure of how he would react. If he would be repulsed… if he would pull away… the one thing the Headmistress understood was disappointment and heartache and had learned to expect it to protect what little of her true heart she showed to the world. She had known that this had started out as a “game”, a battle of one will against another. But with the way he held her now, brought his lips to meet hers… it could not possibly still be a game.

A small sound escaped him, and secured her confidence. She pressed closer to him, one hand remaining braced on his shoulder while the other snake upward to cradle the back of his head, encouraging him further into the kiss. With the herbs muddling her thoughts, she allowed her body to react on its own accord and simply drowned in the embrace. Knees did eventually decide to rebel and unwilling to break the kiss, she leaned against him to compensation. She let all of her fears and concerns melt away and just accepted the comfort and security that his arms offered. Nothing else mattered but that single moment in time.

The need for air became all too imperative, however, before she had a chance to draw away, a loud crash echoed behind the solid barrier Alfonz created. In any other situation, with a good deal less of the tea sloshing in her stomach, she might have immediately jumped away if nothing else than for adrenaline in response to a threat. But her gaze was still foggy, having detached herself from the rest of the world. And, her reaction time was most certainly delayed. So, she drew back from his face numbly, allowing her lungs to get the needed deep breath they screamed for, but otherwise did not move.

Instead, she remained where she was, the hand that had slid upward, falling back down to rest along his collarbone, head bowed a bit as she tried to get her wits about her. A small frown creased her lips from the effort of forcing herself to concentrate, but eventually it all clicked.

Loud crash… her door. Fleetingly, she hoped it had not been broken. A string of words floated out over to the pair; interrupting, corner … pixies!? Different… odd… new… guardian… The words failed to make sense, but the voice was all too familiar. She had often dealt with it tired, angry, and most often highly intoxicated.

“Corrion?” It was a whispered and puzzled question that would have failed to travel the length of the room.