It had not been the best weekend for Dr. Cox. First he'd
fought with JD; then the conference he'd been called to had wound up being less the intelligent meeting of medical minds that he'd been hoping for and more the grandiose posturing of old people and pharmeceutical companies that he'd feared; and then the ride back... well, no need to get into
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The sight of Cox, sitting at the bar as promised, jolted him from his reveries, and he raised one hand in greeting.
"Oi, Cox! Grab me a Firewhisky, will you, mate? If you're not fast enough, I just might grab you first." He swung himself into a seat next to Cox.
"How was your Healer conference? Was it just as - hey, what the fuck happened to you?"
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He was less prepared, though, for Sirius's question, largely because he himself had forgotten about his little war wounds--they'd kind of faded into the general mire of rage he was dealing with right now. "What?" He blinked, then touched the side of his jaw, where one of said bruises had blossomed.
"Oh, yeah... I~... had a little incident on the way back," he intoned. Fishing his wand out of one of his pockets, he pointed it towards himself and muttered something, and the bruises quickly began to fade. With a reflexive sort of a smirk, he tapped his nose and reached for his glass.
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"Nicely done," he said as he put the glass down. "As is that little bit of healing magic there. Now I know who to go to after my next bar fight...unless this night ends in fisticuffs, of course. But I highly doubt that. Don't doubt, though, that it will end in one of our bedrooms." Sirius flashed Cox that special naughty smirk reserved especially for him.
The healing charm was quite impressive, though. It would've been helpful to know more of that kind of magic when he had been a teenager. Might've saved him and James from hospital wing trips...although there certainly was something to be said for the way some time in the hospital wing provided a great excuse for missing class.
He watched as the last traces of the bruises disappeared. "What, you insult another man's fiancee - a bloke who wasn't so interested in settling the dispute via leather trousers and a
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Realizing quickly, though, that he'd probably just made Sirius even more curious about the whole thing, he sighed, lifting his gaze to glare at the ceiling. "I... might have sort of thrown his suitcase at the door," he admitted grudgingly. "I didn't think it actually belonged to anyone... Bastard had one hell of a right hook, though."
Glancing back towards Sirius, he relaxed slightly and gave a slightly more genuine grin. "Don't worry, Shiloh, if I ever do haul off and give you the smacking around you so desperately deserve, I promise I'll... probably fix you up afterwards. Maybe I'll even go ahead and give you that neutering I know you've just always wanted."
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And then, somehow, he had managed to say something that set Sirius off again. Cox had to admit, it was incredibly impressive the way Sirius could turn anything into flirting. The man was seriously dedicated.
"You... do realize that I'm talking about chopping off Little Fido here," he had to ask, slightly amazed, shaking his head slowly. That deserved a drink. "And-- before you say anything else, yes, I do mean ( ... )
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Flying motorbike, on the other hand... Cox reached for the Firewhisky and graciously topped Sirius off, considering that. "I dunno, think we could get my Porsche to fly? Now that would be fun. Not to mention pretty Goddamn impressive." He grinned, imagining all the things he could do with a flying car, up to and including parking it on top of Jordan's. Plus, maybe he could strap JD to the hood and use him for an ornament ( ... )
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He picked up his glass again, this time taking a quick sip of Firewhisky. "And if you wanna get off with me in the backseat afterwards, you know I won't turn you down." He'd certainly be willing to do more than a little snogging, but was too thrilled about the prospect of enchanting a car to fly to take the flirt further.
Cox's eyebrow raise seemed to indicate a bit of surprise that Sirius had been talking to Jordan, and Sirius decided to exploit that a bit. "Oh, sure, she told me about it." Sirius wasn't quite sure what 'it' was, but it seemed like some sort of secret, and the only way to get it out of Cox would be to pretend he already knew what it was. (Maybe ( ... )
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He gave Sirius a suspicious look. "Do you actually know how to drive, anyway, Fido? For that matter, do you know how to do anything but 'get off in the backseat,' which, by the way, I'm pretty sure you know the damn answer to already."
Meanwhile, what in the hell was Sirius talking about? 'That sort of thing'... what, dating? Lily? Was she a thing now? Shouting at waiters? Quidditch? "What... gave it away?" he asked diffusively, trying to glean some meaning out of Sirius's twisted brain.
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Sirius ran his fingers through his hair excitedly. It was an old habit, one that had fallen into disuse, as he hadn't had a whole lot to be excited about until recently. "Of course I know how to drive. I started flying my motorbike when I was seventeen ( ... )
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"Come on, some guy from Crazytown taught you how not to get stains on the leather and you think I'm letting you near my very expensive car?" He shook his head skeptically, sitting back again, reaching for his glass. "Come on, Hound Dog, I had more faith in you than that. Not... a lot more, but still ( ... )
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Still, he couldn't help but smirk as Sirius leaned back, quickly hiding it with his glass. "Waaatch it there, Zippy. Anyway, I don't care about the wild and raunchy past between us, that never ever ever rule is going into effect as of now either way." Although, the idea of the Flying Chick Magnet was pretty damn appealing, as was avoiding the damn train and the damn huge guys who punched him in the face for the rest of his life... He hesitated, biding his time by enjoying his scotch, staring critically at the wizard. Finally, he swallowed hard, smacked his lips, and gave a deep sigh. "Buuuut I suppose in the name of... y'know, ( ... )
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"You know, holding onto my arm for five seconds is a lot easier than spending multiple hours next to me on a Muggle airplane while I make constant attempts to get you to join the mile-high club with me in the loo, anyway." He grinned at Cox's final acquiescence. "You'll have to let me drive it to make sure it works properly - in the air, that is. But once I'm certain all the correct charms and safeties are in place, it's all yours to drive. Deal?"
And then a very intriguing idea popped into Sirius's head. "Hey, you wouldn't be interested in meeting Jim Morrison, would you?"
After taking a very large swallow of Firewhisky - so large, in fact, that it nearly escaped Sirius's lips and sprayed out onto the bar - Sirius said, "And yes, I did think ( ... )
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And that would have been it, had it not been for Sirius's teasing him about Jordan. Oh no he din't. Darkening instantly, Cox spun on his stool to face Sirius fully once more, eyes narrowing. He plucked an ice cube from his glass and threw it down on the bar, gesturing to it. "Fido, do you know what this is? This is my patience--now, most of the time, it just sits there, but every so often things get kinda hot and it just starts shri~nking away, but then, sometimes someone, and this is the part that's relevant to you, does this--" and he smacked his hand against the bartop, crushing the ice cube flat. "...to my patience. Much like ( ... )
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