As long as you know that men are like children...
Category: Pink Sheep RPG
“I’m glad to get back to lighter cases for a little while,” Neil said casually as he took a sip of his drink. “High profile trials are a challenge, but it can wear a bloke out. The Vaisey case did have its share of intrigue and surprise.”
Nodding, Graham gave a soft snort. "That's what I heard. Poor Penelope, sprogged up by the man she tried to take down. That's going to be awkward." His expression turned wry. "Can't say I'm sorry her birth control decided to fail now rather than the night we spent together though.” He didn’t even want to imagine Lola’s face if he told her he’d gotten some other bird up the duff. An iron pan would be the least of his worries.
Neil’s eyes grew round. He shouldn’t have been surprised, his brother had spent a number of years playing the role of manwhore. The reputation remained, though Neil was pretty sure Graham’s attention was focused more often than not on one particular witch these days. It was nice that his younger sibling was starting to get a bit more serious about that sort of thing, even if he would likely have to trick or drag the bitty ballerina girl into taking him as a husband.
“Wait, so you mean to tell me that you’ve had relations with the woman expecting my client’s children?”
“Well not while she’s been in a family way,” Graham replied with a slight shudder. “It was years ago, and only once. It’s not like we had a lengthy or recent acquaintance. There was no reason to bring it up earlier; it wasn’t relevant to your case.”
The elder Pritchard brother just shook his head. “You really are a slut, aren’t you?”
Graham raised his glass. “Cheers, mate.”
Gabrielle’s heels were muffled against the thick carpet as she entered into the bar area. After a month hopping around the globe for work, she was happy to be back in one place for longer than a week. She loved the hustle and bustle of Fashion Week, but someimes she needed to relax. And she couldn’t relax without a glass of wine.
Fabiana was in London. For what reason, Gabrielle couldn’t recall, but she had made a date with her mentor for dinner after the other woman’s meeting with Rose Mallory at Witch Weekly. She was a few minutes early, but she didn’t mind. All the better to get started on the wine.
Setting her clutch on the bar, she gave the bartender a small, flirtatious smile. “A glass of Malbec rosé, s’il vous plaît.”
“Coming right up, miss.”
Both Graham and Neil had looked up at the blonde beauty’s approach, then at each other with slightly raised brows. Graham might be slowing down on the sowing of oats, but he could appreciate a gorgeous bird as much as the next man.
“Our tab,” he told the bartender before turning his attention back to the lovely French woman. Extending his hand, he introduced himself. “Graham Pritchard. This is my brother Neil,” he said with a jerk of his head.
Placing her delicate hand in Graham's, Gabrielle gave it a light shake.
"Gabrielle Delacour," she said, light blue eyes taking in the pair of brothers. Her lips curled slightly; they were both quite handsome, though she did have a bit of a weakness for dark-haired men. And this Neil's eyes were a lovely shade of blue. Things were looking quite well for her. "Eet ees a pleasure to meet you both."
Neil slid down one stool, leaving an open seat between him and his brother. “The pleasure is ours. Please, join us.” Having the company of an attractive woman was better than listening to Graham’s sexual conquests.
Taking her glass of wine, Gabrielle moved the few steps to the newly-open seat and sat down, crossing her legs at the ankles and setting her clutch on the bar next to her glass.
“Merci,” she murmured with a coy smile, gaze moving to flicker over the brother who’d offered his seat-- Neil. Taking a sip of her wine, she said, “What brings two ‘andsome men like ze two of you ‘ere zis evening?”
“Just a bit of brotherly bonding,” Graham replied, swirling his brandy. “There’s always room for a lovely lady, though.”
Neil nodded his agreement. “The real question is how did such a beautiful woman end up out unescorted? It seems awfully cruel to deny any gents the opportunity to accompany you, though I’ll admit that cruelty has benefited me tonight.”
Gabrielle quirked one blonde brow in amusement. “Cruel? Moi? Pas de tout. Eet ees not as eef zere ees a man to be escorting me out tonight. I am meeting a friend of mine for diner, and ‘er meeting ees late.”
“Somehow I doubt you’d have a hard time finding volunteers,” Neil said with a wry smile.
“Lucky for us your friend’s running behind,” Graham interjected, offering a wink. Gabrielle was a gorgeous bird and he was happy to flirt a bit. He didn’t have any intention of doing more than that, but it wouldn’t hurt his older brother to have some chance of getting shagged in the near future. “What is it you do for a living, Miss Delacour?”
Her lips curled at the little wink. She was no stranger to handsome men flirting with her, but she was picky. There were standards for the men she spent her time with, and luckily for her, both of these men met them. Tall, dark, handsome, and charming. “I am a model,” she replied matter-of-factly. “I walk on ze runways for ze fashion ‘ouses, and I also do a beet of print work for ze magazines as well.”
The look the brothers shared showed that neither was particularly surprised by this information. There were many attractive women in the world, but Gabrielle carried herself in such a way that one couldn’t help but notice her. “Then you can just pretend you’re here with me,” Neil told her with a mischievous gleam in his eye. “I’m a barrister. I know how to present myself respectably. Graham here has a face for radio.”
Graham gave his elder brother a little shove. “Maybe so, but I also have the brains and charm to maintain a scintillating program.”
Gabrielle gave a soft laugh and tossed her hair over her shoulder, blue eyes bright with amusement. “And what sort of radio show do you ‘ave, Monsieur?”
“I have a political talk show, with other news of interest intermixed,” Graham explained. There was a lot of political apathy in the wizarding world, something that never failed to confuse him. Hadn’t there been proof enough of the Ministry’s deceit during the Voldemort years?
She nodded. “Zat sounds..." ennuyeux, "interresant,” she said politely, smiling at him. “I ‘ave not much time for politics, and I know not much about ze politics ‘ere, so forgeeve me.”
Leaning close, Neil said in a mock whisper, “Don’t worry about it, no one else cares much about his little show either. Even the family only listens to be polite.”
“Wanker,” Graham grumbled. “As if all your legal talk is fascinating the masses.”
Her lips curled in amusement at the repartee between the two brothers. There were many differences between English and French men, some bad and some good. She was learning to appreciate the nuances between the cultures... though she did not know what ‘wanker’ meant. But with the way Graham had said it, it was not likely a nice thing.
“So,” she said, taking another sip of her wine, “we ‘ave established zat I am without a partner ce soir, but I ‘ave not knowing why two ‘andsome men such as you do not ‘ave ze women ‘ere with you.”
With a shrug, Neil answered, “Graham needed a little brotherly advice. It seems a tiny woman, all of about seven stone in weight, keeps beating him up. I don’t know what to tell him, frankly. I try not to get involved with fights between women.”
“Ah bon?” Gabrielle queried, turning her blue gaze to Graham. “Is zere a good reason for ‘er to be ‘itting you?”
Graham’s smile warmed as he thought of his Hellkitten. Life was never dull when Lola was around, and there was no one else who felt so good in his arms. “I reckon Lola’s idea of a ‘good reason’ would vary from most people’s but it would be fair enough to say I do my best to stoke the fire of her temper.”
“Translated simply, my brother’s an arse,” Neil clarified.
She giggled and glanced up at Neil. “Et vous? Do you ‘ave a woman who ees often to be ‘itting or ‘exing you?”
“That would require a woman to be within fifteen meters of him,” Graham snarked. “He’s too busy with his nose in his law books to notice them.”
Frowning, Neil retorted, “That’s not true. I’ve spent time with a number of attractive ladies in the last couple months.” They were all lovers or something of Julian Vaisey, but the statement was true nonetheless.
“Ah bon?” Gabrielle queried, quirking a blonde brow at Neil. “You ‘ave meeny womens?” This did not bode well. She enjoyed spending time with attractive men, but there was no fun or game to be had if they were both attached.
It occurred to Neil then how his statement sounded, and his smile turned sheepish as he shook his head. “No. I don’t ‘have’ a woman at all,” he explained, ignoring the smug smirk on his brother’s face. “I’ve just been fortunate enough to be in the company of a number of lovely ladies recently. Mostly for work, if I’m being honest.”
Et bien. At least one of her companions was single; the better looking one, if Gabrielle were being completely honest with herself. As she took a sip of her wine, she gave Neil a small, coy smile over the rim of the glass.
“But eef we are being ze ‘onest, zis is not work, non?”
“No, this is nothing like work.” Neil was pleased that Graham knew to keep his trap shut at this point. Their companion was offering subtle indications that she might be interested in a further acquaintance and he didn’t need his baby brother mucking things up for his own amusement. “Perhaps you’d be in not working with me again sometime? Without Graham?”
Quite pleased that Neil knew how to take a hint, her gaze turned thoughtful as she pretended to think on his suggestion. “Je ne sais pas, zat seems to be awfully ‘urtful for Graham...”
Graham fixed a wounded expression on his face. “He’s always been mean to me, ever since we were children. He stole my toys and never let me play with his friends when they came over. Some things never change...”
“You don’t want him along,” Neil countered. “Such a sad sack. He’d be bringing the mood down with his tales of imaginary woe the whole evening.”
She couldn’t help but laugh, and she’d just begun to respond when the maitre’d tapped her on the shoulder.
“Pardon me, Miss Delacour, but Ms. Dubois has just arrived.”
With a quick merci, Gabrielle set her empty glass down and reached for her clutch. “Well, I ‘ave never been one for ze tales of woe. Dommage, Graham.” Slipping off the stool, she gave Neil a smile and said, “I would like zat very much. Per’aps you weel owl me?”
Claiming Gabrielle’s free hand, Neil brought it to his lips, holding it a moment longer than was strictly necessary. “You may count on it, Miss Delacour. I’ll be in touch very soon.”
Warmth touched her blue eyes as he released her hand. “I weel be looking forward to eet,” she replied. With a smile and a nod for Graham, she bid them a soft, “Au revoir,” and turned to join Fabiana at their table.
Graham smirked at his older brother and mimicked his voice, “You may count on it, Miss Delacour. Schmuck.”
“Piss off, Ballerina’s Boy.”
Summary: Graham and Neil catch up at a bar and run into Gabrielle. Ze flirting ensues, bien sûr.
“I’m glad to get back to lighter cases for a little while,” Neil said casually as he took a sip of his drink. “High profile trials are a challenge, but it can wear a bloke out. The Vaisey case did have its share of intrigue and surprise.”
Nodding, Graham gave a soft snort. "That's what I heard. Poor Penelope, sprogged up by the man she tried to take down. That's going to be awkward." His expression turned wry. "Can't say I'm sorry her birth control decided to fail now rather than the night we spent together though.” He didn’t even want to imagine Lola’s face if he told her he’d gotten some other bird up the duff. An iron pan would be the least of his worries.
Neil’s eyes grew round. He shouldn’t have been surprised, his brother had spent a number of years playing the role of manwhore. The reputation remained, though Neil was pretty sure Graham’s attention was focused more often than not on one particular witch these days. It was nice that his younger sibling was starting to get a bit more serious about that sort of thing, even if he would likely have to trick or drag the bitty ballerina girl into taking him as a husband.
“Wait, so you mean to tell me that you’ve had relations with the woman expecting my client’s children?”
“Well not while she’s been in a family way,” Graham replied with a slight shudder. “It was years ago, and only once. It’s not like we had a lengthy or recent acquaintance. There was no reason to bring it up earlier; it wasn’t relevant to your case.”
The elder Pritchard brother just shook his head. “You really are a slut, aren’t you?”
Graham raised his glass. “Cheers, mate.”
Gabrielle’s heels were muffled against the thick carpet as she entered into the bar area. After a month hopping around the globe for work, she was happy to be back in one place for longer than a week. She loved the hustle and bustle of Fashion Week, but someimes she needed to relax. And she couldn’t relax without a glass of wine.
Fabiana was in London. For what reason, Gabrielle couldn’t recall, but she had made a date with her mentor for dinner after the other woman’s meeting with Rose Mallory at Witch Weekly. She was a few minutes early, but she didn’t mind. All the better to get started on the wine.
Setting her clutch on the bar, she gave the bartender a small, flirtatious smile. “A glass of Malbec rosé, s’il vous plaît.”
“Coming right up, miss.”
Both Graham and Neil had looked up at the blonde beauty’s approach, then at each other with slightly raised brows. Graham might be slowing down on the sowing of oats, but he could appreciate a gorgeous bird as much as the next man.
“Our tab,” he told the bartender before turning his attention back to the lovely French woman. Extending his hand, he introduced himself. “Graham Pritchard. This is my brother Neil,” he said with a jerk of his head.
Placing her delicate hand in Graham's, Gabrielle gave it a light shake.
"Gabrielle Delacour," she said, light blue eyes taking in the pair of brothers. Her lips curled slightly; they were both quite handsome, though she did have a bit of a weakness for dark-haired men. And this Neil's eyes were a lovely shade of blue. Things were looking quite well for her. "Eet ees a pleasure to meet you both."
Neil slid down one stool, leaving an open seat between him and his brother. “The pleasure is ours. Please, join us.” Having the company of an attractive woman was better than listening to Graham’s sexual conquests.
Taking her glass of wine, Gabrielle moved the few steps to the newly-open seat and sat down, crossing her legs at the ankles and setting her clutch on the bar next to her glass.
“Merci,” she murmured with a coy smile, gaze moving to flicker over the brother who’d offered his seat-- Neil. Taking a sip of her wine, she said, “What brings two ‘andsome men like ze two of you ‘ere zis evening?”
“Just a bit of brotherly bonding,” Graham replied, swirling his brandy. “There’s always room for a lovely lady, though.”
Neil nodded his agreement. “The real question is how did such a beautiful woman end up out unescorted? It seems awfully cruel to deny any gents the opportunity to accompany you, though I’ll admit that cruelty has benefited me tonight.”
Gabrielle quirked one blonde brow in amusement. “Cruel? Moi? Pas de tout. Eet ees not as eef zere ees a man to be escorting me out tonight. I am meeting a friend of mine for diner, and ‘er meeting ees late.”
“Somehow I doubt you’d have a hard time finding volunteers,” Neil said with a wry smile.
“Lucky for us your friend’s running behind,” Graham interjected, offering a wink. Gabrielle was a gorgeous bird and he was happy to flirt a bit. He didn’t have any intention of doing more than that, but it wouldn’t hurt his older brother to have some chance of getting shagged in the near future. “What is it you do for a living, Miss Delacour?”
Her lips curled at the little wink. She was no stranger to handsome men flirting with her, but she was picky. There were standards for the men she spent her time with, and luckily for her, both of these men met them. Tall, dark, handsome, and charming. “I am a model,” she replied matter-of-factly. “I walk on ze runways for ze fashion ‘ouses, and I also do a beet of print work for ze magazines as well.”
The look the brothers shared showed that neither was particularly surprised by this information. There were many attractive women in the world, but Gabrielle carried herself in such a way that one couldn’t help but notice her. “Then you can just pretend you’re here with me,” Neil told her with a mischievous gleam in his eye. “I’m a barrister. I know how to present myself respectably. Graham here has a face for radio.”
Graham gave his elder brother a little shove. “Maybe so, but I also have the brains and charm to maintain a scintillating program.”
Gabrielle gave a soft laugh and tossed her hair over her shoulder, blue eyes bright with amusement. “And what sort of radio show do you ‘ave, Monsieur?”
“I have a political talk show, with other news of interest intermixed,” Graham explained. There was a lot of political apathy in the wizarding world, something that never failed to confuse him. Hadn’t there been proof enough of the Ministry’s deceit during the Voldemort years?
She nodded. “Zat sounds..." ennuyeux, "interresant,” she said politely, smiling at him. “I ‘ave not much time for politics, and I know not much about ze politics ‘ere, so forgeeve me.”
Leaning close, Neil said in a mock whisper, “Don’t worry about it, no one else cares much about his little show either. Even the family only listens to be polite.”
“Wanker,” Graham grumbled. “As if all your legal talk is fascinating the masses.”
Her lips curled in amusement at the repartee between the two brothers. There were many differences between English and French men, some bad and some good. She was learning to appreciate the nuances between the cultures... though she did not know what ‘wanker’ meant. But with the way Graham had said it, it was not likely a nice thing.
“So,” she said, taking another sip of her wine, “we ‘ave established zat I am without a partner ce soir, but I ‘ave not knowing why two ‘andsome men such as you do not ‘ave ze women ‘ere with you.”
With a shrug, Neil answered, “Graham needed a little brotherly advice. It seems a tiny woman, all of about seven stone in weight, keeps beating him up. I don’t know what to tell him, frankly. I try not to get involved with fights between women.”
“Ah bon?” Gabrielle queried, turning her blue gaze to Graham. “Is zere a good reason for ‘er to be ‘itting you?”
Graham’s smile warmed as he thought of his Hellkitten. Life was never dull when Lola was around, and there was no one else who felt so good in his arms. “I reckon Lola’s idea of a ‘good reason’ would vary from most people’s but it would be fair enough to say I do my best to stoke the fire of her temper.”
“Translated simply, my brother’s an arse,” Neil clarified.
She giggled and glanced up at Neil. “Et vous? Do you ‘ave a woman who ees often to be ‘itting or ‘exing you?”
“That would require a woman to be within fifteen meters of him,” Graham snarked. “He’s too busy with his nose in his law books to notice them.”
Frowning, Neil retorted, “That’s not true. I’ve spent time with a number of attractive ladies in the last couple months.” They were all lovers or something of Julian Vaisey, but the statement was true nonetheless.
“Ah bon?” Gabrielle queried, quirking a blonde brow at Neil. “You ‘ave meeny womens?” This did not bode well. She enjoyed spending time with attractive men, but there was no fun or game to be had if they were both attached.
It occurred to Neil then how his statement sounded, and his smile turned sheepish as he shook his head. “No. I don’t ‘have’ a woman at all,” he explained, ignoring the smug smirk on his brother’s face. “I’ve just been fortunate enough to be in the company of a number of lovely ladies recently. Mostly for work, if I’m being honest.”
Et bien. At least one of her companions was single; the better looking one, if Gabrielle were being completely honest with herself. As she took a sip of her wine, she gave Neil a small, coy smile over the rim of the glass.
“But eef we are being ze ‘onest, zis is not work, non?”
“No, this is nothing like work.” Neil was pleased that Graham knew to keep his trap shut at this point. Their companion was offering subtle indications that she might be interested in a further acquaintance and he didn’t need his baby brother mucking things up for his own amusement. “Perhaps you’d be in not working with me again sometime? Without Graham?”
Quite pleased that Neil knew how to take a hint, her gaze turned thoughtful as she pretended to think on his suggestion. “Je ne sais pas, zat seems to be awfully ‘urtful for Graham...”
Graham fixed a wounded expression on his face. “He’s always been mean to me, ever since we were children. He stole my toys and never let me play with his friends when they came over. Some things never change...”
“You don’t want him along,” Neil countered. “Such a sad sack. He’d be bringing the mood down with his tales of imaginary woe the whole evening.”
She couldn’t help but laugh, and she’d just begun to respond when the maitre’d tapped her on the shoulder.
“Pardon me, Miss Delacour, but Ms. Dubois has just arrived.”
With a quick merci, Gabrielle set her empty glass down and reached for her clutch. “Well, I ‘ave never been one for ze tales of woe. Dommage, Graham.” Slipping off the stool, she gave Neil a smile and said, “I would like zat very much. Per’aps you weel owl me?”
Claiming Gabrielle’s free hand, Neil brought it to his lips, holding it a moment longer than was strictly necessary. “You may count on it, Miss Delacour. I’ll be in touch very soon.”
Warmth touched her blue eyes as he released her hand. “I weel be looking forward to eet,” she replied. With a smile and a nod for Graham, she bid them a soft, “Au revoir,” and turned to join Fabiana at their table.
Graham smirked at his older brother and mimicked his voice, “You may count on it, Miss Delacour. Schmuck.”
“Piss off, Ballerina’s Boy.”
Summary: Graham and Neil catch up at a bar and run into Gabrielle. Ze flirting ensues, bien sûr.