Fic: Name Me (Kingsley/Dorcas)
I still have no Kingsley or Dorcas icons. Shame on me!
Title: Name Me
Fandom: Harry Potter (I often forget to include this. I apologize since this is a multi-fandom fic journal.)
Characters: Kingsley Shacklebolt/Dorcas Meadows
Word Count: 1124
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Alcohol consumption & pretty barmaids
Prompt: Together at 15pairings (xposted at first_order)
Disclaimer: JK Rowling gave us a name of those in the First Order of the Phoenix but very little else other than the way they died. It is in these holes that I write. Please keep an open mind and enjoy this ditty for the entertainment purpose it has been called forth to supply.
Author's Note: This takes place after True Visions but there are still stories that take place in between. For instance, there is the fic that explains how Dorcas becomes a member of the Order of the Phoenix. And one that talks about how fond Dorcas has become of meatloaf but wishes there was more. I just haven't written those fics. This one was written WEEKS AGO and was actually some of the first things I knew about both Kingsley and Dorcas. There is another reference to K being a "knight" which I hadn't remembered there being until I read through it tonight. For the double reference to his knighthood in the last two fics, I apologize. He just seems like that sort of guy to me.
~~~~
Dorcas lifted the half-empty glass, trying not to smirk at Kingsley’s confused expression. Nothing delighted her quite so much as getting into a conversation that didn’t go anywhere. He took everything so seriously that it turned into a farce.
“But your parents named you Dorcas. Surely that’s a good enough reason to use it.”
She looked around the room once again before concentrating on the handsome man across from her. The barmaid was flirting with the men at the table just over from theirs and it was starting to irritate her. The only thing that saved the girl from a nasty fall next time she walked by the table was the fact that Kingsley hadn’t once looked her way. Dorcas didn’t like to share.
“My brother’s name is Agamemnon. Would you suggest he go by that tongue twister?”
He thought for a moment before answering. That he had to give that question any consideration made her chortle. Or it might have been the fact that she had already had three pints before this one. For someone who worked in a pub, she certainly couldn’t handle her liquor well.
“That is not the same thing. He is entitled to a nickname if he chooses. You, on the other hand, don’t want a nickname. You want an entirely new name.”
“To go with the new me that you’re suggesting. I want to break away from Dorcas and become… Meredith.”
“You aren’t a Meredith.”
That acknowledgment cheered her up. She wasn’t fond of the name Meredith but it was the name that came to mind the quickest because it was the name of the bubbly barmaid.
“Eunice?” he offered with a twinkle in his eye she felt all the way to her toes.
“Too much like Dorcas.”
“Elizabeth.”
“I’m not very queenly. “ Nor do I want to stay a virgin now that your pretty smile is directed at me, she thought as the fuzzy feeling in her stomach spread lower.
“Jane.”
“Too plain.”
“Myrtle.”
“Reminds me of a tree.”
“Jack.”
“My uncle’s name.”
“Mine, too.”
It was several minutes before she stopped laughing so the conversation could continue. In the meantime, Kingsley beckoned the ever-present Meredith and ordered another round. If she’d been able to stop him she would have. Clearly she’d had too much to drink as it was but she liked how it was loosening her drinking companion up.
“So,” he said as she got herself composed again. “Not Jack.”
“Perhaps we should stay with something more feminine.”
“Delicate, even. Befitting your small stature.”
Dorcas grimaced dramatically but held her tongue. Her lack of height was not her favorite conversation topic. Over the years she’d heard just about every short joke there was, most of them from that brother of hers. The only thing that kept her from changing the conversation was her sudden desire to see what he would say if she acknowledged his statement.
“I am tiny.”
His hand came out to capture a curl that was hanging over her shoulder. Together, they watched the auburn lock nestle against the pink skin of his palm. “Small enough to fit in my hand.”
Was the alcohol making that statement into an innuendo or had he truly meant it like her imagination was hoping he had? A shudder ran through her as she contemplated what his hand might be able to hold. It was nearly impossible to close her gaping mouth without the use of her hand but she managed after a few tries.
“Maybe not that tiny.” She shook her head violently enough to dispel the erotic images as well as to move the rest of her hair out of his reach. “I’m bigger than… say, a mouse.”
“A mouse.” His voice caress the words but she wasn’t sure she liked where he was going with her choice of words. “I like that. I think I shall call you Mouse.”
“But… I didn’t say… you can’t just… what if I don’t like it?” Dorcas was truly flustered. He was looking at her like he might want to kiss her but talking about her as if she was a child. It might have been mixed signals or just an overabundance of hormones mixed with too much alcohol.
“I could call you Agamemnon but we’d have some confusion when your brother came to visit.” When she didn’t answer, he continued, “But if you don’t like it I could-“
“Everything alright over here? Need anything else?” Meredith had chosen the worst possible time to come over to ask about refills but Dorcas almost forgave her for it. Nearly. If the woman hadn’t leaned over to showcase what exactly was holding her corset up, Dorcas might have stayed silent.
Just as Dorcas was working up a comment that compared her parentage with those of beetles and other small animals, Kingsley beat her to the punch. “Go away now, Meredith. We’re done for the evening. When we’re gone, you can clean off the table but until then, we’d prefer to be left alone.”
Even though his words were rather abrupt, he smiled while saying them, leaving Meredith completely confused. “Sounds good.” She covered over her confusion quickly, sauntering off with her hips swaying in a way that gave Dorcas vertigo as she watched.
“What do you say? Shall we leave? Have I softened you up enough?”
“Softened me up? For what?”
His hand was back, this time smoothing away the hair at her temples. The calluses on his fingertips scrapped her skin, igniting a blaze of sensation. “Silly Mouse. I’m trying to tactfully think of a way to ask you back to my flat but you make it rather difficult. I suppose it’s because there is no tactful way of asking so… would you like to go back to my flat?”
“Will you do that thing again with your fingertips? That thing you did just now?”
“When I touched you?”
She nodded. “Yes. The touching.”
Kingsley stood up and held out his hand to her, still the galant knight he always was no matter the amount of alcohol they had consumed tonight. “I can assure you there will be touching. Lots of touching, Mouse.”
“Oh good.” It wasn’t the answer she wanted to give him but it was hard to form the right sentiment when she was holding his hand, being led from the pub to the darkened street outside. They would be at his flat soon and all she knew for sure was that she wouldn’t mind the new nickname so much if he always said it with that tone of voice. It was enough to make her follow him wherever he asked her to go, irregardless of the alcohol content of the evening prior to the question.
Title: Name Me
Fandom: Harry Potter (I often forget to include this. I apologize since this is a multi-fandom fic journal.)
Characters: Kingsley Shacklebolt/Dorcas Meadows
Word Count: 1124
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Alcohol consumption & pretty barmaids
Prompt: Together at 15pairings (xposted at first_order)
Disclaimer: JK Rowling gave us a name of those in the First Order of the Phoenix but very little else other than the way they died. It is in these holes that I write. Please keep an open mind and enjoy this ditty for the entertainment purpose it has been called forth to supply.
Author's Note: This takes place after True Visions but there are still stories that take place in between. For instance, there is the fic that explains how Dorcas becomes a member of the Order of the Phoenix. And one that talks about how fond Dorcas has become of meatloaf but wishes there was more. I just haven't written those fics. This one was written WEEKS AGO and was actually some of the first things I knew about both Kingsley and Dorcas. There is another reference to K being a "knight" which I hadn't remembered there being until I read through it tonight. For the double reference to his knighthood in the last two fics, I apologize. He just seems like that sort of guy to me.
~~~~
Dorcas lifted the half-empty glass, trying not to smirk at Kingsley’s confused expression. Nothing delighted her quite so much as getting into a conversation that didn’t go anywhere. He took everything so seriously that it turned into a farce.
“But your parents named you Dorcas. Surely that’s a good enough reason to use it.”
She looked around the room once again before concentrating on the handsome man across from her. The barmaid was flirting with the men at the table just over from theirs and it was starting to irritate her. The only thing that saved the girl from a nasty fall next time she walked by the table was the fact that Kingsley hadn’t once looked her way. Dorcas didn’t like to share.
“My brother’s name is Agamemnon. Would you suggest he go by that tongue twister?”
He thought for a moment before answering. That he had to give that question any consideration made her chortle. Or it might have been the fact that she had already had three pints before this one. For someone who worked in a pub, she certainly couldn’t handle her liquor well.
“That is not the same thing. He is entitled to a nickname if he chooses. You, on the other hand, don’t want a nickname. You want an entirely new name.”
“To go with the new me that you’re suggesting. I want to break away from Dorcas and become… Meredith.”
“You aren’t a Meredith.”
That acknowledgment cheered her up. She wasn’t fond of the name Meredith but it was the name that came to mind the quickest because it was the name of the bubbly barmaid.
“Eunice?” he offered with a twinkle in his eye she felt all the way to her toes.
“Too much like Dorcas.”
“Elizabeth.”
“I’m not very queenly. “ Nor do I want to stay a virgin now that your pretty smile is directed at me, she thought as the fuzzy feeling in her stomach spread lower.
“Jane.”
“Too plain.”
“Myrtle.”
“Reminds me of a tree.”
“Jack.”
“My uncle’s name.”
“Mine, too.”
It was several minutes before she stopped laughing so the conversation could continue. In the meantime, Kingsley beckoned the ever-present Meredith and ordered another round. If she’d been able to stop him she would have. Clearly she’d had too much to drink as it was but she liked how it was loosening her drinking companion up.
“So,” he said as she got herself composed again. “Not Jack.”
“Perhaps we should stay with something more feminine.”
“Delicate, even. Befitting your small stature.”
Dorcas grimaced dramatically but held her tongue. Her lack of height was not her favorite conversation topic. Over the years she’d heard just about every short joke there was, most of them from that brother of hers. The only thing that kept her from changing the conversation was her sudden desire to see what he would say if she acknowledged his statement.
“I am tiny.”
His hand came out to capture a curl that was hanging over her shoulder. Together, they watched the auburn lock nestle against the pink skin of his palm. “Small enough to fit in my hand.”
Was the alcohol making that statement into an innuendo or had he truly meant it like her imagination was hoping he had? A shudder ran through her as she contemplated what his hand might be able to hold. It was nearly impossible to close her gaping mouth without the use of her hand but she managed after a few tries.
“Maybe not that tiny.” She shook her head violently enough to dispel the erotic images as well as to move the rest of her hair out of his reach. “I’m bigger than… say, a mouse.”
“A mouse.” His voice caress the words but she wasn’t sure she liked where he was going with her choice of words. “I like that. I think I shall call you Mouse.”
“But… I didn’t say… you can’t just… what if I don’t like it?” Dorcas was truly flustered. He was looking at her like he might want to kiss her but talking about her as if she was a child. It might have been mixed signals or just an overabundance of hormones mixed with too much alcohol.
“I could call you Agamemnon but we’d have some confusion when your brother came to visit.” When she didn’t answer, he continued, “But if you don’t like it I could-“
“Everything alright over here? Need anything else?” Meredith had chosen the worst possible time to come over to ask about refills but Dorcas almost forgave her for it. Nearly. If the woman hadn’t leaned over to showcase what exactly was holding her corset up, Dorcas might have stayed silent.
Just as Dorcas was working up a comment that compared her parentage with those of beetles and other small animals, Kingsley beat her to the punch. “Go away now, Meredith. We’re done for the evening. When we’re gone, you can clean off the table but until then, we’d prefer to be left alone.”
Even though his words were rather abrupt, he smiled while saying them, leaving Meredith completely confused. “Sounds good.” She covered over her confusion quickly, sauntering off with her hips swaying in a way that gave Dorcas vertigo as she watched.
“What do you say? Shall we leave? Have I softened you up enough?”
“Softened me up? For what?”
His hand was back, this time smoothing away the hair at her temples. The calluses on his fingertips scrapped her skin, igniting a blaze of sensation. “Silly Mouse. I’m trying to tactfully think of a way to ask you back to my flat but you make it rather difficult. I suppose it’s because there is no tactful way of asking so… would you like to go back to my flat?”
“Will you do that thing again with your fingertips? That thing you did just now?”
“When I touched you?”
She nodded. “Yes. The touching.”
Kingsley stood up and held out his hand to her, still the galant knight he always was no matter the amount of alcohol they had consumed tonight. “I can assure you there will be touching. Lots of touching, Mouse.”
“Oh good.” It wasn’t the answer she wanted to give him but it was hard to form the right sentiment when she was holding his hand, being led from the pub to the darkened street outside. They would be at his flat soon and all she knew for sure was that she wouldn’t mind the new nickname so much if he always said it with that tone of voice. It was enough to make her follow him wherever he asked her to go, irregardless of the alcohol content of the evening prior to the question.