Cecilia Jacobs : Date Night
George had hardly been able to think about anything else since leaving Cecilia's office at St-Mungo's two days prior. He'd come home to a flat that resembled a disaster zone more than a place where an adult person actually lived, but had since done little more to clean up after his blind rampage than to sweep the majority of the carnage aside with
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Especially when she relived that lingering kiss on her cheek.
She was now working on the final touches of dinner while fixing her hair - her wand working double duty as she did her best to get ready in time. She'd had to shower twice thanks to a young girl vomiting all over her shoes and as she worked a frizz-free potion through her hair, she hoped she smelled more like lavender than, well, puke.
When she heard the knock come at the door, Cecilia took one final glance at herself in the mirror. Her blond hair was styled in sleek, loose waves around her shoulders and she kept her make-up simple. The dress she chose was a new purchase - one specifically for this night. It had taken her two hours to find something she thought George would like. Not like she knew what he liked... yet, but she hoped he did anyway.
She took a deep breath before pulling open the door.
Wow.
"Hi-" was all she could muster.
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"Oh, my poor heart, where has it gone?
It's left me for a spelllll!"
"Bloody-," George jumped at the comically squeeky, harmonized rendition of the well-known classic that had just burst forth from the small drawstring bag in which he had tossed the salt and pepper shakers. He fumbled his wand out of his jacket's inner pocket and quickly jabbed it at the bag, cutting short the tune.
"Erm. Hi," he finally replied, meeting Cecilia's gaze (wow) with a sheepish grin. "Well...there goes my party trick."
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He had looked good even covered in squid ink with the way his shirt fit snugly around his body (yes, she had noticed). But now, standing outside of her apartment, she was very, incredibly impressed. And excited. And suddenly falling into a bit of a giggle as she heard two very squeaky voices singing one of her favorite songs. She covered her mouth with her hand as she stifled the laughter, finally stepping aside to let him come in.
"Please, come in. You know, they sound rather lovely," she told him. "The two-part harmony is a very interesting take. We ought to send a letter to Celestina to let her know."
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"And inspire another 'The Best of' album of re-recordings? I don't think the wizarding world could take it," he joked as he walked in, doing an odd sort of wheel-about as he did so in order to keep his eyes on her.
"In case these things," he jiggled the back in his hand, "hadn't completely given me away yet, may I just say, you look absolutely stunning."
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She took a step toward him, not saying a word before closing the gap between them and kissing him softly on the lips. She pressed her hands against his chest as she let her lips linger against his - only for a moment, before pulling away.
She tugged softly on the lapels of his jacket, raising her eyes to meet his as a flush crept into the back of her neck.
"I'm sorry-" she said, a soft smile appearing on her face. "I've just been thinking about doing that all day long..."
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"Glad to know that wasn't entirely one-sided, then," he finally replied after a beat spent pulling himself back together. The evening had barely even started and already there he was, essentially ready to throw himself at her feet. How did she do that?
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"Not a chance, Weasley," she said while she smoothed out his jacket. "Did I mention yet that this is a very dashing look for you? I really like it."
She stepped back from him, her eyes taking him in completely and her mouth forming a small smile. She moved away from him and toward the kitchen.
"Can I get you a drink?"
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"Sure, please," he replied, following her lead towards the kitchen, quite grateful for both the suggestion and the few moments he got while she was turned away to take a deep breath, shake himself out a bit as he tried to ignore the lingering taste of her on his lips.
"Whatever you're having. Anything I can do to help?" he added, nodding towards the bustling kitchen.
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"I think we're almost set," she said, eying everything being prepared.
There were two pieces of filet mignon grilling on top of the stove, season vegetables steaming and potatoes baking in the oven. It was one of her favorite meals, herself. The island was already set with dishes and cutlery. She thought it would be more intimate than the dining room. She hardly ever ate in there anyway.
She looked back at him suddenly, "I should have asked - Merlin - you're not vegetarian or anything are you?"
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"Oh, bloody hell, no," George reassured her, shaking his head with something close to horror at the idea of it. "I'll take a piece of meat over a salad any day, so this looks absolutely fantastic."
He tipped his glass against hers before taking a sip, savoring the rare taste (he was generally more of an ale man, himself, but this made for quite a nice change) of the wine. "Really, I don't remember the last time I've had anything prepared that looked this good. I hope you didn't go through too much trouble on my account."
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"You know, I eat at the hospital most of the time," she said, leaning her elbows against the counter. "So being able to have something other than cafeteria food is really nice. I hardly get a chance to cook, so this has been fun."
A small ding filled the kitchen causing Cecilia to pull on a pair of rather ridiculous looking oven mitts. They had this strange house elf print that every once in a while gave her cooking tips. She pulled out the potatoes and set them on a cooling rack before turning back to George.
"House-warming present," she said, holding up her hands to show him. "Riley thought they were hilarious. They scare the bloody hell out of me when they try and teach me how to cook a roast at three in the morning from inside the cupboard."
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"I must say I like his sense of humor. I've got to wonder if there's a patent on those things, I'm starting to think there'd be a market for a kitchen accessory line."
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"He is an odd one," she mused, thinking about all the pranks he'd used to play on her as children. "Is it hard work to come up with new ideas all the time? I've been in your shop before- gifts for my niece in the States. It's fantastically massive. I just don't know how you do it."
She had bought Madeline a Headless Hat. It terrified her sister-in-law half to death but it had her brother, Holden, rolling on the floor in laughter. She grinned briefly at the memory.
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George shrugged, his usual response whenever anyone questioned his and Fred's seemingly endless stream of new gadgets, toys, and trinkets. "It's not much of a job, really. If you look around at just about anything, it could always be made to be more amusing, or strange, or...explodey," he grinned. "This glass could be encouraging you to drink more. That timer could've shouted at you to hurry up before the spuds burned. It's just a matter of bringing it to life."
He took another long sip of wine. "You've got family in America, then?"
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At his question, she smiled even brighter.
"I do-" she laughed softly as she realized he likely didn't know Holden. "My brother... my twin brother, actually.. Holden - he was in Ravenclaw until he dropped out his sixth year. He moved to New York City and met this fantastic witch named Edin and they've been married for... well, Madeline is four so six years? Edin teaches at the American Wizarding School in Salem and Holden's an alchemist."
She was fond of her brother and his family. It was difficult to have them so far and to be on such a time difference but she made more of an effort to see them than her parents, that was for sure. Of course, Holden didn't begrudge Cecilia the way her parents still did.
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He could imagine that it must be tough to live so far away from her twin. He and Fred still practically lived on top of each other, and he honestly couldn't imagine it being any other way, but the rest of their siblings were by now mostly spread out. He had grown quite fond of his quickly growing nieces and nephew and more than anything regretted not being around to serve as a much-needed trouble-making influence to the wee ones. Bill had moved out to France to be closer to Fleur's family, and Victoire and Dominique already were shaping up to be entirely too disciplined under Fleur's watchful and dainty French mothering (though he hoped Louis would grow up with some mischievous potential, the small boy was still too young to tell), and with Percy as a father, he knew there was no hope at all for little Molly and Lucy despite the fact that they were still relatively nearby in Scotland.
"Anyway, I certainly hope the little one's enjoyed whatever you've gotten her from the shop."
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