Making friends is easy.
Emma was still in a huff as she made her way back to the lift from the portkey office. The bloke who worked there always gave her a hard time when she came with an urgent request for a portkey. It wasn't as if sudden business meetings were a rare occurrence, but the power-mad Ministry employee loved to see her practically beg for him to do his job. Poncy arse.
She couldn't believe she'd ever snogged him.
Realizing the lift was about to close, Emma called out for the woman inside to hold the door for her as she ran to catch it, but the woman merely stared at her. She reached the lift just as it closed, leaving her behind, and a frustrated squeak escaped the tiny blonde. The Ministry was a foul place and its employees were just rude.
"There's a reason people like her are always in foul moods," Ryan commented as he came up to the lifts next to the bitty blonde that he'd watched dash across the small lobby. She'd a nice little arse. "Having a perpetual stick up one's arse never does much good for a person's disposition."
"If she pulled it out she might be able to use it to hold the lift doors open," Emma grumbled, though the irritation was already beginning to fade. It was hard to hold on to grumpiness when random fit men started talking to her. Looking up at her new companion, she asked, "Do Ministry employees exist without the stick?"
Ryan grinned. "Am pleased to report I'm stick-free." He was also pleased to note that she was cute, as well as fit. There were some pretty girls in the Ministry, but most of them were the uptight kind they were talking of that very moment.
Emma studied him for a moment as if she could detect the presence or absence of a pole up his bum. Finally she smiled and held out her hand. "I'm glad to know it's possible. I'm Emma Dobbs. You should buy me coffee to prove to me that all Ministry employees don't suck."
"I certainly should," he said, grin growing at her smile and cheerfulness. If he held her hand longer than was strictly necessary, she didn't comment or try to pull away. Score. "I'm Ryan Zeller, and I believe this is our lift," he said, motioning to the door opening.
"I believe you're right," she agreed as she stepped inside the lift. Ryan followed and Emma turned bright green eyes up to the handsome dark-haired man. He was smiley and genial, and she didn't feel the slightest bit guilty for pulling him from whatever boring Ministry task he might otherwise be doing. "So what department do they keep you non-stick-in-arse types? I know it's not the portkey office, nor down in legal. So far your presence has been kept a secret from me despite all the errands I do for my boss here."
"Well, unless you find yourself on the wrong side of the law, I doubt we would have ever met in an official capacity," Ryan said. He kept a hand on one of the rails and an eye on his blonde companion as the Ministry lift wound it's way through the building. It was known to drop or jerk unexpectedly at times.
Ryan smiled when he met her gaze again. It was lucky the portkeys he'd picked up for himself and Rose weren't for an immediate assignment; he was looking forward to the impromptu break he'd found in the pretty little witch. "I'm a Hit Wizard," he offered. "What about you? What kind of job do you do for your boss besides run errands to the Ministry?"
One perfectly shaped blonde brow rose when Ryan stated his profession. She'd never met a real Hit Wizard before. Thankfully her life had never called for those sorts of services. "I also run errands to his business contacts and for Falmouth Falcons business. Sometimes I research potential investment properties for him. I guess you could say I'm Mr. Carmichael's Girl Friday."
Eying him curiously, Emma asked with a grin, "So are you all scary and deadly? I can't decide if I should feel safe or frightened in your presence."
Ryan's grin grew. "Some might say I'm 'all scary and deadly', but I doubt you'll ever see the Hyde to my Jekyll." He raised a brow in return as they stepped out of the lift into the busy Atrium, humor still dancing in his eyes. "Unless you've been sent here to lure me away only to have me ambushed."
With a secretive smile and a tiny shrug, Emma took Ryan's hand and tugged him through the busy Atrium toward the entrance to the street. "I suppose that's just a risk we'll both have to take. You risk that I'm secretly a very perky member of a gang intent on ambushing Hit Wizards - do they call the women Hit Witches? - and I risk that you're being honest when you say you won't go all scary and deadly on me."
"Risky," he said, though his grin belied his amusement at not only her words, but the fact that she was tugging him along. Most of the women he met weren't nearly as open or assertive. They always waited for him to make all the moves first, to do the inviting and leading. Ryan found that he didn't mind being led around by cute little blondes in the least, however.
Dark eyes flicked around the alley out of habit as she pulled him into the crowds, assessing their surrounding and the people lingering in the area. "My sister's a Hit Witch," he volunteered in answer to her earlier question.
"Really?" Emma queried in surprise, glancing up at her new acquaintance as they weaved through the busy London street. "Sibling crime fighters? I don't think my brother and I could ever work together. MJ is Very Serious. Of course, he's also a Muggle so he wouldn't do well in my office anyway."
Ryan's lips curled at the way she talked of her brother. A lot like Rosie talked about him, come to think of it, but with more sugary sweetness in the delivery. "Rosie is my partner," he said, "and she's definitely the better half of this duo." He lowered his voice in mock whisper. "You will, of course, keep that to yourself. Brother clause says she can't know I admire her." He winked.
As she pulled him into the coffee shop, Emma giggled. She and her brother were close and it was clear Ryan and his Rosie were, too. "It'll be our secret. Unless she beats it out of me. I don't know you well enough to endure a Hit Witch beat down in silence. I'm bouncy, but I don't like to look like I've been bounced on, unless it's in the good way." Emma's eyes went wide and a blush rose in her cheeks. Well, she hadn't really meant to say that.
Ryan's grin widened as he watched the bitty blonde catch her own unintentional double entendre. He couldn't not comment on it. "And what, exactly, would you consider 'the good way'?"
Clearing her throat, Emma gave a little shrug, her face still slightly pink. "It's okay to be mussed when my best friend Lola has just sneak attacked me, or if we've just fallen through her roof while we tried to fix it, or if I've been doing other... fun things. Being beaten up by a trained professional doesn't have the same appeal."
His grin didn't slip, but Ryan didn't comment on the 'other fun things' she'd hinted at as they stepped into the queue. The logic jump wasn't a large one. That Emma was blushing about it only amused him further; she was cute.
"Now see, if you get trained by a professional, sparring can be fun," he said. "Getting tossed around doesn't seem so bad when you get to do some of the beating yourself on occasion."
"So, you're saying that if I had you teach me, for example, then I would suddenly enjoy being knocked about because I could also knock you about?" Emma looked doubtful. Aside from her kitten brawls with Lola, she'd never had much interest in fighting. That wasn't to say she was unable to fight, she'd done very well in her Defense classes in school and she'd even participated in the dueling club. Despite her usual appearance, Emma could handle herself well in a magical battle and she felt confident she'd be able to put up a decent physical fight if she needed to. It just wasn't something she'd ever felt the need to seek out.
The look on the blonde's face had Ryan chuckling. "I guess if you put it like that..."
Ryan only winked at her before stepping up to the cafe's counter as the customer before them moved on. They both put in their orders and minutes later Ryan was savoring the strong, black coffee he'd ordered. No sugar, no cream. He liked the shock of the bold flavor and the bitter aftertaste.
Cups in hand, he nodded toward one of the small cafe tables, brows raised at his impromptu companion. "Sit, or do you have to get going?"
"No, I have time," she said, moving toward the open table. "I wouldn't have asked you to take me for coffee if I couldn't stick around to drink it with you. That would just be rude." She hadn't actually asked so much as nudged, which could also be considered rude, but Emma trusted that if Ryan had thought so he would have turned her down no matter how much she'd hinted.
"So, your sister is the 'better half'? Does that mean she's scarier and deadlier than you? I mean, you don't look very scary to me right now, but I guess I haven't really done much to inspire much scariness."
After settling with his back to the wall so he could easily see the entrance and the people who entered the little cafe, Ryan turned dark eyes back to his companion. "She's probably not much taller than you, love, and just as pretty. When she's all dolled up like you, she looks just as threatening," he said, grin curling his lips, "which in our field can sometimes be an advantage. The bad guys never expect a pretty girl to be so vicious." The words were true, but the tone was all flirtation.
"As for me," he continued, dark eyes bright with his intent and humor, "I've always found you can get more with honey than fists and curses."
Not that he didn't often and regularly have to resort to the more violent aspects of his job, but Ryan had learned tricks the same way Rosie had. She didn't use her wiles in the office, but she definitely knew how to use them in the field when necessary. Being something of a Lothario had it's own advantages; criminals often underestimated him as too pretty, too smooth, too privileged with all of the former to have any competence in much of anything.
Emma grinned. She liked that Ryan was being flirty and fun. She got the feeling that, much like her, he liked the game of it. Of course he was also a man, so he probably took his game farther than she generally did - except with Michael - but the intent was the same. Fun for the sake of having fun. In his line of work it was probably easy to become sour, cynical, and serious, and Emma liked that he didn't fall into that trap.
"I use honey to get what I want too. Like coffee," she teased, eyes crinkling as she took a sip of the drink her 'honey' had procured. "Most of the time it works very well, but once in a while I run into someone who doesn't care for it. I haven't ever had to use my fists, though. If a wiggle and a giggle doesn't work, I usually find someone else to play with."
"If a wiggle and giggle doesn't work, then the bloke's either a poofter or not worth your time, dove," Ryan said, grinning. Dark eyes flicked to the door when it opened, but it was only a mother and child who entered the tiny cafe. "If you're wiggling, then a man should be paying attention. And offering up his supplication," Ryan added, nodding at her coffee.
Vibrant blue eyes flashed in Emma's mind as Ryan inadvertently called her by the same endearment that Michael used. There were still feelings and thoughts to sort through on that front, but for now she fell into the flirting that had always come as easily as breathing. "You think so? And what if I were to wiggle a bit for you?" she asked playfully.
"If you were to wiggle a bit, I'd have to assume that you like my company," he said, grinning. "And then I'd assume that you'd say yes to seeing me for another kind of drink at a different time of the day."
Emma's eyes grew wide. She did enjoy Ryan's company and she was sure he was lots of fun to play with, which was what those other kinds of drinks at other times of the day generally led to. A few months ago it would have been automatic to solicit such an invitation, but with her churning thoughts on Michael, Emma wasn't sure what to do.
"You can assume I like your company whether I wiggle or not," she replied at last.
Ryan's lips twitched. "And then there's the unspoken 'but'." It was a surprise, actually. Usually when women picked him up, even ones that came across as guileless as the blonde across from him, they were after a night in his bed. Her expression hinted that she'd not been thinking in that direction, however -- yet, at least -- and Ryan found that he was interested in her for it. She was different. Cute and fun, not sultry and aggressive. Unpredictable.
But it seemed she had something else, or someone else, on her mind.
He glanced at his watch and then back up at Emma, a grin curling his lips. "If I don't go, I'll be late and then my sister will feel obligated to try and give me a black eye. You know where to find me though, if you ever do decide to wiggle a bit."
Ryan stood, but paused before leaving. "It was good to meet you, Emma Dobbs."
Rising from her seat, the little blonde smiled. "It was nice to meet you, too, Ryan Zeller. I hope your Rosie doesn't hit you in the eye." She lifted up on tiptoe and brushed a quick kiss to his cheek. She was almost sad she hadn't met Ryan before she was all thoughty about her Pretty Man. Playing with him would have been a good time. "Thank you for the coffee. Who knows? Maybe we'll share a lift another time."
"Count on it, dove." He flashed a grin and then strode out of the little shop.
She couldn't believe she'd ever snogged him.
Realizing the lift was about to close, Emma called out for the woman inside to hold the door for her as she ran to catch it, but the woman merely stared at her. She reached the lift just as it closed, leaving her behind, and a frustrated squeak escaped the tiny blonde. The Ministry was a foul place and its employees were just rude.
"There's a reason people like her are always in foul moods," Ryan commented as he came up to the lifts next to the bitty blonde that he'd watched dash across the small lobby. She'd a nice little arse. "Having a perpetual stick up one's arse never does much good for a person's disposition."
"If she pulled it out she might be able to use it to hold the lift doors open," Emma grumbled, though the irritation was already beginning to fade. It was hard to hold on to grumpiness when random fit men started talking to her. Looking up at her new companion, she asked, "Do Ministry employees exist without the stick?"
Ryan grinned. "Am pleased to report I'm stick-free." He was also pleased to note that she was cute, as well as fit. There were some pretty girls in the Ministry, but most of them were the uptight kind they were talking of that very moment.
Emma studied him for a moment as if she could detect the presence or absence of a pole up his bum. Finally she smiled and held out her hand. "I'm glad to know it's possible. I'm Emma Dobbs. You should buy me coffee to prove to me that all Ministry employees don't suck."
"I certainly should," he said, grin growing at her smile and cheerfulness. If he held her hand longer than was strictly necessary, she didn't comment or try to pull away. Score. "I'm Ryan Zeller, and I believe this is our lift," he said, motioning to the door opening.
"I believe you're right," she agreed as she stepped inside the lift. Ryan followed and Emma turned bright green eyes up to the handsome dark-haired man. He was smiley and genial, and she didn't feel the slightest bit guilty for pulling him from whatever boring Ministry task he might otherwise be doing. "So what department do they keep you non-stick-in-arse types? I know it's not the portkey office, nor down in legal. So far your presence has been kept a secret from me despite all the errands I do for my boss here."
"Well, unless you find yourself on the wrong side of the law, I doubt we would have ever met in an official capacity," Ryan said. He kept a hand on one of the rails and an eye on his blonde companion as the Ministry lift wound it's way through the building. It was known to drop or jerk unexpectedly at times.
Ryan smiled when he met her gaze again. It was lucky the portkeys he'd picked up for himself and Rose weren't for an immediate assignment; he was looking forward to the impromptu break he'd found in the pretty little witch. "I'm a Hit Wizard," he offered. "What about you? What kind of job do you do for your boss besides run errands to the Ministry?"
One perfectly shaped blonde brow rose when Ryan stated his profession. She'd never met a real Hit Wizard before. Thankfully her life had never called for those sorts of services. "I also run errands to his business contacts and for Falmouth Falcons business. Sometimes I research potential investment properties for him. I guess you could say I'm Mr. Carmichael's Girl Friday."
Eying him curiously, Emma asked with a grin, "So are you all scary and deadly? I can't decide if I should feel safe or frightened in your presence."
Ryan's grin grew. "Some might say I'm 'all scary and deadly', but I doubt you'll ever see the Hyde to my Jekyll." He raised a brow in return as they stepped out of the lift into the busy Atrium, humor still dancing in his eyes. "Unless you've been sent here to lure me away only to have me ambushed."
With a secretive smile and a tiny shrug, Emma took Ryan's hand and tugged him through the busy Atrium toward the entrance to the street. "I suppose that's just a risk we'll both have to take. You risk that I'm secretly a very perky member of a gang intent on ambushing Hit Wizards - do they call the women Hit Witches? - and I risk that you're being honest when you say you won't go all scary and deadly on me."
"Risky," he said, though his grin belied his amusement at not only her words, but the fact that she was tugging him along. Most of the women he met weren't nearly as open or assertive. They always waited for him to make all the moves first, to do the inviting and leading. Ryan found that he didn't mind being led around by cute little blondes in the least, however.
Dark eyes flicked around the alley out of habit as she pulled him into the crowds, assessing their surrounding and the people lingering in the area. "My sister's a Hit Witch," he volunteered in answer to her earlier question.
"Really?" Emma queried in surprise, glancing up at her new acquaintance as they weaved through the busy London street. "Sibling crime fighters? I don't think my brother and I could ever work together. MJ is Very Serious. Of course, he's also a Muggle so he wouldn't do well in my office anyway."
Ryan's lips curled at the way she talked of her brother. A lot like Rosie talked about him, come to think of it, but with more sugary sweetness in the delivery. "Rosie is my partner," he said, "and she's definitely the better half of this duo." He lowered his voice in mock whisper. "You will, of course, keep that to yourself. Brother clause says she can't know I admire her." He winked.
As she pulled him into the coffee shop, Emma giggled. She and her brother were close and it was clear Ryan and his Rosie were, too. "It'll be our secret. Unless she beats it out of me. I don't know you well enough to endure a Hit Witch beat down in silence. I'm bouncy, but I don't like to look like I've been bounced on, unless it's in the good way." Emma's eyes went wide and a blush rose in her cheeks. Well, she hadn't really meant to say that.
Ryan's grin widened as he watched the bitty blonde catch her own unintentional double entendre. He couldn't not comment on it. "And what, exactly, would you consider 'the good way'?"
Clearing her throat, Emma gave a little shrug, her face still slightly pink. "It's okay to be mussed when my best friend Lola has just sneak attacked me, or if we've just fallen through her roof while we tried to fix it, or if I've been doing other... fun things. Being beaten up by a trained professional doesn't have the same appeal."
His grin didn't slip, but Ryan didn't comment on the 'other fun things' she'd hinted at as they stepped into the queue. The logic jump wasn't a large one. That Emma was blushing about it only amused him further; she was cute.
"Now see, if you get trained by a professional, sparring can be fun," he said. "Getting tossed around doesn't seem so bad when you get to do some of the beating yourself on occasion."
"So, you're saying that if I had you teach me, for example, then I would suddenly enjoy being knocked about because I could also knock you about?" Emma looked doubtful. Aside from her kitten brawls with Lola, she'd never had much interest in fighting. That wasn't to say she was unable to fight, she'd done very well in her Defense classes in school and she'd even participated in the dueling club. Despite her usual appearance, Emma could handle herself well in a magical battle and she felt confident she'd be able to put up a decent physical fight if she needed to. It just wasn't something she'd ever felt the need to seek out.
The look on the blonde's face had Ryan chuckling. "I guess if you put it like that..."
Ryan only winked at her before stepping up to the cafe's counter as the customer before them moved on. They both put in their orders and minutes later Ryan was savoring the strong, black coffee he'd ordered. No sugar, no cream. He liked the shock of the bold flavor and the bitter aftertaste.
Cups in hand, he nodded toward one of the small cafe tables, brows raised at his impromptu companion. "Sit, or do you have to get going?"
"No, I have time," she said, moving toward the open table. "I wouldn't have asked you to take me for coffee if I couldn't stick around to drink it with you. That would just be rude." She hadn't actually asked so much as nudged, which could also be considered rude, but Emma trusted that if Ryan had thought so he would have turned her down no matter how much she'd hinted.
"So, your sister is the 'better half'? Does that mean she's scarier and deadlier than you? I mean, you don't look very scary to me right now, but I guess I haven't really done much to inspire much scariness."
After settling with his back to the wall so he could easily see the entrance and the people who entered the little cafe, Ryan turned dark eyes back to his companion. "She's probably not much taller than you, love, and just as pretty. When she's all dolled up like you, she looks just as threatening," he said, grin curling his lips, "which in our field can sometimes be an advantage. The bad guys never expect a pretty girl to be so vicious." The words were true, but the tone was all flirtation.
"As for me," he continued, dark eyes bright with his intent and humor, "I've always found you can get more with honey than fists and curses."
Not that he didn't often and regularly have to resort to the more violent aspects of his job, but Ryan had learned tricks the same way Rosie had. She didn't use her wiles in the office, but she definitely knew how to use them in the field when necessary. Being something of a Lothario had it's own advantages; criminals often underestimated him as too pretty, too smooth, too privileged with all of the former to have any competence in much of anything.
Emma grinned. She liked that Ryan was being flirty and fun. She got the feeling that, much like her, he liked the game of it. Of course he was also a man, so he probably took his game farther than she generally did - except with Michael - but the intent was the same. Fun for the sake of having fun. In his line of work it was probably easy to become sour, cynical, and serious, and Emma liked that he didn't fall into that trap.
"I use honey to get what I want too. Like coffee," she teased, eyes crinkling as she took a sip of the drink her 'honey' had procured. "Most of the time it works very well, but once in a while I run into someone who doesn't care for it. I haven't ever had to use my fists, though. If a wiggle and a giggle doesn't work, I usually find someone else to play with."
"If a wiggle and giggle doesn't work, then the bloke's either a poofter or not worth your time, dove," Ryan said, grinning. Dark eyes flicked to the door when it opened, but it was only a mother and child who entered the tiny cafe. "If you're wiggling, then a man should be paying attention. And offering up his supplication," Ryan added, nodding at her coffee.
Vibrant blue eyes flashed in Emma's mind as Ryan inadvertently called her by the same endearment that Michael used. There were still feelings and thoughts to sort through on that front, but for now she fell into the flirting that had always come as easily as breathing. "You think so? And what if I were to wiggle a bit for you?" she asked playfully.
"If you were to wiggle a bit, I'd have to assume that you like my company," he said, grinning. "And then I'd assume that you'd say yes to seeing me for another kind of drink at a different time of the day."
Emma's eyes grew wide. She did enjoy Ryan's company and she was sure he was lots of fun to play with, which was what those other kinds of drinks at other times of the day generally led to. A few months ago it would have been automatic to solicit such an invitation, but with her churning thoughts on Michael, Emma wasn't sure what to do.
"You can assume I like your company whether I wiggle or not," she replied at last.
Ryan's lips twitched. "And then there's the unspoken 'but'." It was a surprise, actually. Usually when women picked him up, even ones that came across as guileless as the blonde across from him, they were after a night in his bed. Her expression hinted that she'd not been thinking in that direction, however -- yet, at least -- and Ryan found that he was interested in her for it. She was different. Cute and fun, not sultry and aggressive. Unpredictable.
But it seemed she had something else, or someone else, on her mind.
He glanced at his watch and then back up at Emma, a grin curling his lips. "If I don't go, I'll be late and then my sister will feel obligated to try and give me a black eye. You know where to find me though, if you ever do decide to wiggle a bit."
Ryan stood, but paused before leaving. "It was good to meet you, Emma Dobbs."
Rising from her seat, the little blonde smiled. "It was nice to meet you, too, Ryan Zeller. I hope your Rosie doesn't hit you in the eye." She lifted up on tiptoe and brushed a quick kiss to his cheek. She was almost sad she hadn't met Ryan before she was all thoughty about her Pretty Man. Playing with him would have been a good time. "Thank you for the coffee. Who knows? Maybe we'll share a lift another time."
"Count on it, dove." He flashed a grin and then strode out of the little shop.