All Aboard The Jolly Roger
Title: Jolly Roger
Summary: After Gideon's jaunty turn around the Auror classroom (buck-naked, we might add) the gang gather in the pub to discuss his prospects with a certain Ms. Meadowes. Beware, adult themes. Flapping.
Gideon and Fabian appear courtesy of alohachary1851's fair and talented hand. Frank and Alice expertly penned by brownstudies.
Gideon sits, slumped ever so elegantly in the booth, waiting for the order of chips to come to their table. "Thought we'd start out simple with ciders." Fabian says, taking the seat next to him.
Frank sits opposite them both, jigging his leg up and down under the table. He is playing with a beermat, fidgeting for England.
“Frank,” Alice chimes absentmindedly from his side.
“Hm? Sorry, love,” He steadies his leg and instead reaches for a stray salt shaker, pouring the grains out into piles on the wooden tabletop. Alice calmly reaches for it and sets it out of his way.
“Sorry, love,” Frank repeats again.
“I don’t know what Augusta is getting so het up about,” Alice sighs into her orange juice. “Why would I need to have a baby when I’ve got you?” Frank grins and gives her a quick peck on the cheek. “Fabian, please give him the cider. Before I kill myself. Or him.” She deadpans. Finally having something to do with his hands, Frank takes a giant swig of cider and smacks his lips in satsifaction. Alice rolls her eyes, but not without a certain fondness.
"What am I doing here again?" she asks the twins.
Gideon gestures to answer and instead takes a giant swig from his cider, downing half the pint at one go. "Right. That's over with. So, Alice, is there a benefit from my stunt? A benefit for-"
"- a benefit for his Jolly Roger." Fabian grins into his cider. "Poor brother, all the looks and no glory." He takes a more mature gulp from his cider and sits back. "The looks on everyone's faces..."
The look on Alice's face isn't much less perplexed. She frowns at Frank, then Gideon, then back to Frank.
"For his todger, love. His schlong. His Mr. Perky." Frank makes a crude gesture with his hand and winks at Gid. "He wants to know if Dorcas is about ready to cast her knickers down," he explains, arm around Alice's chair. Alice has the good grace to look affronted for her friend, but it's about two seconds before she's giggling secretively into the crook of Frank's arm.
"Oh, Gideon," she manages after a time. "I wish I'd had been there. Although obviously I don't." She casts a quick glance up at Frank, who is as unconcerned as always. Apparently Hufflepuffs don't get jealous. "Dorcas said - she said - " She collapses into fits of giggles again, much to Gideon's obvious dismay. Frank says nothing, but guffaws into his pint. He knows something, Gideon thinks.
Gideon, tired and impatient for a plate full of food he will regret in the morning, says, like a petulant child "Alice, get out of Frank's armpit and tell me."
"No!" she squeaks, covering her face with her hands. They're both looking as red as beetroots, now. Frank seems to have been completely rendered speechless and just sits there, shoulders shaking in silent mirth. Alice peeks out from beneath his arm.
"It is a secret," she manages, making futile attempts at solemnity. "It is.... girl's stuff."
"Ooh, Gid." Fabian prods his brother, "You've made 'Girl's Stuff' categorisation, veiled and Moste Secrete order of female conversation-"
"Shut up Fabian," Gideon rolls his eyes. "I've also made Frank's 'Poems for Poofs' category, so I don't know exactly how great that is. No... wait, that's just a sign of my desirability to women and men."
Fabian interrupts and says "It was a great poem, by the way, Alice. I mean, the Bard himself would probably bow to his mastery of verse-"
"Yeah, what's the secret?" Gideon says quickly.
"Rhyme scheme and meter. Excellent." Fabian finishes, executing the tried and true technique of Prewett two-front interrogative attack. The food arrives and Fabian picks a chip up and offers it to Alice, "Chip?"
Alice shakes her head and tries to compose herself. Really tries.
“She said, “she begins, “she said that as you ran past... you sort of - you sort of - “Frank is beside himself at this point. Frank is halfway under the table, lanky frame collapsed in hysterics. Frank is a bastard, Gideon thinks.
“Gideon, you sort of - flapped at her,” Alice manages to choke out. “she says that when she closes her eyes, all she can hear is....*SLAP*!” The pair of them are besides themselves, now, tangled up together in a floppy mess of silly giggles and ludicrous squirming. Frank accidentally knocks over his cider and sends yellow liquid gushing all over the table, which completely tips Alice over the edge. “Inches from her face!” she finishes, entirely too loudly. “Oh, Gid, it really is too funny.” She casts a fleeting glance down at Gideons crotch, then dives under Frank's arm again, muffled laughter rippling from within.
"I know you fancied getting up close and personal with the girl, Gid, but bloody hell," Frank chortles.
"Inches," whimpers Alice.
Gideon Prewett's face, at the moment was the epitome of smug. Sitting back with his arms behind his head, he says "Oh, so she was looking then?"
"Real closely, apparently." Fabian laughs. "It's unconventional-"
"My middle name is 'Unconventional', Fabian-" Gideon says airily. Fabian rolls his eyes. "Don't ruin my joke, Fabian. Don't-"
Fabian rolls his eyes and tosses a napkin at Frank, a haphazard attempt at cleaning up. "Twat."
"Flapped. Was that her exact word? Flapped?" Gideon asks, still grinning and looking ever so casual as he ate his plateful of chips. "Flapped." He says one more time.
Alice nods. "Amongst others." She stifles another giggle, then fixes Gideon with A Look. "I shouldn't say this, but she also said that you were very..." Alice gazes up to the ceiling as she searches for the right word, then settles for a hand gesture, just as Frank lends his own: a pinkie finger. "Shutup Frank," she smiles, slapping him away.
"I didn't say anything," Frank protests. She rolls her eyes at him for the Nth time today and focuses her attention back to Gideon.
"Sort of the opposite of what Frank is suggesting," she whispers. For the first time in perhaps their entire relationship, Frank sits up and pays attention.
"Wot?" he demands. "Wot? Woman? Wot?" Alice just sips her orange juice prettily.
"I was going to make some crack about Dorcas not seeing a man properly before... but... that'd be insulting me as well as this idiot." Fabian says, reaching over to grab a handful of his brother's well earned chips.
"Well, big hands, big feet. Proportions, Frank. Proportions." Gideon says simply, reveling in all of the information. His demeanor does a sudden turn around and he sits up and looks at Alice very seriously and asks "D'you think I should wait a while before asking her, would that get weird?"
"Would you drink the rest of your cider before it gets too warm and you whine like a little girl?" Fabian asks, irritably. Gideon downs the rest of his cider, "'Bout time, be back. Firewhisky. Need to get away from Speculative Women Talk."
"I think you should strike now. While the iron is hot, you know," Alice tells Gideon. Frank, meanwhile, is muttering something under his breath about how he is the tallest, he is the one is size thirteens, thank you very much. Alice pats him reassuringly on the leg.
Gideon nods and sits quietly, feeling the slightest bit fuzzy after the cider. Suddenly he grins and says "Oh, so for once in my life I can finally say 'Oi, Dorcas, my eyes are up here'?" Gideon doesn't wait for a reaction and laughs loudly at his own joke.
"Twat," Frank mutters, grumpily.
"Hey Frank, I offered 10 Galleons and you turned it down and wrote me a girly poem instead. You're not gonna get the ladies to talk about your John Thomas that way." Gideon retorts.
"And now I take it back. You are no longer my Ginger lover. Piss off, Prewett."
"Oh good lord, are you really going to sit here and sulk because some girl you barely know thinks your friend might be a little bit more endowed than you?" Alice cries.
"....Yes." Frank replies. Alice rolls her eyes until she begins to think that they might roll right out of their sockets.
"Fabian!" she calls. "A Firewhisky for me too, please. Good god." Frank lays his head on her shoulder and peers somewhat pathetically at her. "I didn't say... I didn't say that I... Oh Frank you great big silly arse. " she murmurs softly, kissing his forehead. Frank gives a tiny mue of resentment still, so she gives him a proper kiss and lets him snuggle into her chest. “Silly,” she says, rubbing noses. Perhaps Hufflepuffs do get jealous afterall. But just the really very useless ones, she thinks.
"Jesus, both of you." Gideon makes gagging sounds. Fabian returns with a rather large bottle of Firewhisky and three glasses. "Tall... tall glass, Fabian. I need to unsee what I've just seen." Gideon gestures over to Alice and Frank. "It's a disgrace to The Academy, it is. Look at him."
"Say that now, Gid, that'll be you with Dorcas if you ever get the stones to properly ask her out." Fabian answers, watching in dismay as his brother pours himself a full glass of Firewhisky and then promptly downs it. "That is impressive, Gid, and disgusting."
"Cheers." Gid grins happily, sitting back in his seat. "Think I will, actually."
Summary: After Gideon's jaunty turn around the Auror classroom (buck-naked, we might add) the gang gather in the pub to discuss his prospects with a certain Ms. Meadowes. Beware, adult themes. Flapping.
Gideon and Fabian appear courtesy of alohachary1851's fair and talented hand. Frank and Alice expertly penned by brownstudies.
Gideon sits, slumped ever so elegantly in the booth, waiting for the order of chips to come to their table. "Thought we'd start out simple with ciders." Fabian says, taking the seat next to him.
Frank sits opposite them both, jigging his leg up and down under the table. He is playing with a beermat, fidgeting for England.
“Frank,” Alice chimes absentmindedly from his side.
“Hm? Sorry, love,” He steadies his leg and instead reaches for a stray salt shaker, pouring the grains out into piles on the wooden tabletop. Alice calmly reaches for it and sets it out of his way.
“Sorry, love,” Frank repeats again.
“I don’t know what Augusta is getting so het up about,” Alice sighs into her orange juice. “Why would I need to have a baby when I’ve got you?” Frank grins and gives her a quick peck on the cheek. “Fabian, please give him the cider. Before I kill myself. Or him.” She deadpans. Finally having something to do with his hands, Frank takes a giant swig of cider and smacks his lips in satsifaction. Alice rolls her eyes, but not without a certain fondness.
"What am I doing here again?" she asks the twins.
Gideon gestures to answer and instead takes a giant swig from his cider, downing half the pint at one go. "Right. That's over with. So, Alice, is there a benefit from my stunt? A benefit for-"
"- a benefit for his Jolly Roger." Fabian grins into his cider. "Poor brother, all the looks and no glory." He takes a more mature gulp from his cider and sits back. "The looks on everyone's faces..."
The look on Alice's face isn't much less perplexed. She frowns at Frank, then Gideon, then back to Frank.
"For his todger, love. His schlong. His Mr. Perky." Frank makes a crude gesture with his hand and winks at Gid. "He wants to know if Dorcas is about ready to cast her knickers down," he explains, arm around Alice's chair. Alice has the good grace to look affronted for her friend, but it's about two seconds before she's giggling secretively into the crook of Frank's arm.
"Oh, Gideon," she manages after a time. "I wish I'd had been there. Although obviously I don't." She casts a quick glance up at Frank, who is as unconcerned as always. Apparently Hufflepuffs don't get jealous. "Dorcas said - she said - " She collapses into fits of giggles again, much to Gideon's obvious dismay. Frank says nothing, but guffaws into his pint. He knows something, Gideon thinks.
Gideon, tired and impatient for a plate full of food he will regret in the morning, says, like a petulant child "Alice, get out of Frank's armpit and tell me."
"No!" she squeaks, covering her face with her hands. They're both looking as red as beetroots, now. Frank seems to have been completely rendered speechless and just sits there, shoulders shaking in silent mirth. Alice peeks out from beneath his arm.
"It is a secret," she manages, making futile attempts at solemnity. "It is.... girl's stuff."
"Ooh, Gid." Fabian prods his brother, "You've made 'Girl's Stuff' categorisation, veiled and Moste Secrete order of female conversation-"
"Shut up Fabian," Gideon rolls his eyes. "I've also made Frank's 'Poems for Poofs' category, so I don't know exactly how great that is. No... wait, that's just a sign of my desirability to women and men."
Fabian interrupts and says "It was a great poem, by the way, Alice. I mean, the Bard himself would probably bow to his mastery of verse-"
"Yeah, what's the secret?" Gideon says quickly.
"Rhyme scheme and meter. Excellent." Fabian finishes, executing the tried and true technique of Prewett two-front interrogative attack. The food arrives and Fabian picks a chip up and offers it to Alice, "Chip?"
Alice shakes her head and tries to compose herself. Really tries.
“She said, “she begins, “she said that as you ran past... you sort of - you sort of - “Frank is beside himself at this point. Frank is halfway under the table, lanky frame collapsed in hysterics. Frank is a bastard, Gideon thinks.
“Gideon, you sort of - flapped at her,” Alice manages to choke out. “she says that when she closes her eyes, all she can hear is....*SLAP*!” The pair of them are besides themselves, now, tangled up together in a floppy mess of silly giggles and ludicrous squirming. Frank accidentally knocks over his cider and sends yellow liquid gushing all over the table, which completely tips Alice over the edge. “Inches from her face!” she finishes, entirely too loudly. “Oh, Gid, it really is too funny.” She casts a fleeting glance down at Gideons crotch, then dives under Frank's arm again, muffled laughter rippling from within.
"I know you fancied getting up close and personal with the girl, Gid, but bloody hell," Frank chortles.
"Inches," whimpers Alice.
Gideon Prewett's face, at the moment was the epitome of smug. Sitting back with his arms behind his head, he says "Oh, so she was looking then?"
"Real closely, apparently." Fabian laughs. "It's unconventional-"
"My middle name is 'Unconventional', Fabian-" Gideon says airily. Fabian rolls his eyes. "Don't ruin my joke, Fabian. Don't-"
Fabian rolls his eyes and tosses a napkin at Frank, a haphazard attempt at cleaning up. "Twat."
"Flapped. Was that her exact word? Flapped?" Gideon asks, still grinning and looking ever so casual as he ate his plateful of chips. "Flapped." He says one more time.
Alice nods. "Amongst others." She stifles another giggle, then fixes Gideon with A Look. "I shouldn't say this, but she also said that you were very..." Alice gazes up to the ceiling as she searches for the right word, then settles for a hand gesture, just as Frank lends his own: a pinkie finger. "Shutup Frank," she smiles, slapping him away.
"I didn't say anything," Frank protests. She rolls her eyes at him for the Nth time today and focuses her attention back to Gideon.
"Sort of the opposite of what Frank is suggesting," she whispers. For the first time in perhaps their entire relationship, Frank sits up and pays attention.
"Wot?" he demands. "Wot? Woman? Wot?" Alice just sips her orange juice prettily.
"I was going to make some crack about Dorcas not seeing a man properly before... but... that'd be insulting me as well as this idiot." Fabian says, reaching over to grab a handful of his brother's well earned chips.
"Well, big hands, big feet. Proportions, Frank. Proportions." Gideon says simply, reveling in all of the information. His demeanor does a sudden turn around and he sits up and looks at Alice very seriously and asks "D'you think I should wait a while before asking her, would that get weird?"
"Would you drink the rest of your cider before it gets too warm and you whine like a little girl?" Fabian asks, irritably. Gideon downs the rest of his cider, "'Bout time, be back. Firewhisky. Need to get away from Speculative Women Talk."
"I think you should strike now. While the iron is hot, you know," Alice tells Gideon. Frank, meanwhile, is muttering something under his breath about how he is the tallest, he is the one is size thirteens, thank you very much. Alice pats him reassuringly on the leg.
Gideon nods and sits quietly, feeling the slightest bit fuzzy after the cider. Suddenly he grins and says "Oh, so for once in my life I can finally say 'Oi, Dorcas, my eyes are up here'?" Gideon doesn't wait for a reaction and laughs loudly at his own joke.
"Twat," Frank mutters, grumpily.
"Hey Frank, I offered 10 Galleons and you turned it down and wrote me a girly poem instead. You're not gonna get the ladies to talk about your John Thomas that way." Gideon retorts.
"And now I take it back. You are no longer my Ginger lover. Piss off, Prewett."
"Oh good lord, are you really going to sit here and sulk because some girl you barely know thinks your friend might be a little bit more endowed than you?" Alice cries.
"....Yes." Frank replies. Alice rolls her eyes until she begins to think that they might roll right out of their sockets.
"Fabian!" she calls. "A Firewhisky for me too, please. Good god." Frank lays his head on her shoulder and peers somewhat pathetically at her. "I didn't say... I didn't say that I... Oh Frank you great big silly arse. " she murmurs softly, kissing his forehead. Frank gives a tiny mue of resentment still, so she gives him a proper kiss and lets him snuggle into her chest. “Silly,” she says, rubbing noses. Perhaps Hufflepuffs do get jealous afterall. But just the really very useless ones, she thinks.
"Jesus, both of you." Gideon makes gagging sounds. Fabian returns with a rather large bottle of Firewhisky and three glasses. "Tall... tall glass, Fabian. I need to unsee what I've just seen." Gideon gestures over to Alice and Frank. "It's a disgrace to The Academy, it is. Look at him."
"Say that now, Gid, that'll be you with Dorcas if you ever get the stones to properly ask her out." Fabian answers, watching in dismay as his brother pours himself a full glass of Firewhisky and then promptly downs it. "That is impressive, Gid, and disgusting."
"Cheers." Gid grins happily, sitting back in his seat. "Think I will, actually."