Cleanup Crew [Abe]

[Jacaranda Mulciber]

What an absolute mess. She knew Abe wasn’t the neat type, but could he not even stack papers? Jac stood in the doorway to his office, surveying the damage. She might have assumed a cage full of pixies had been unleashed in here if she didn’t know the man’s habits. Scrolls and parchments of all shapes and sizes were strewn over the desk and spilling over onto his floor. The bin was overflowing with scraps of paper and there was no clear divide between where the litter ended and the assignments began.

The room was empty of the man himself, but she had been assured by the prefect that had shown her up here that he would return soon. Something had come up, apparently. She told the boy not to bother him and that she would wait here for him. Closing the door behind her, she took out her wand and set to work.

Soon, papers were flying every-which way and organising themselves into neat piles. A kitten emerged from wherever it had been snoozing and began to swat at various flying objects. Jac eyed it warily but when it seemed the grey fuzz ball was only interested in shredding paper, she saves a chewed assignment from it, levitated a non-essential piece of parchment at it and left it to its game. Jac left them to alphabetise as she sat herself in Abraham’s chair and jabbed her wand at the bin, levitating the litter into the cold fireplace and then igniting it. Soon the wood of the desk was visible and a quick polishing charm cleared any remaining dust.

Moving the paper had uncovered a furry purple paperweight and Jac managed the slightest smile. Scooping up the little round guinea pig, she plonked him on top of some seventh-year papers where he seemed comfortable. The shelves were still a mess, so she flicked her wand idly at the books to have them order themselves. A few polishing charms and an enchanted broom later and the room passed as orderly.

A quick rummage through the draws produced some radishes for the rodent (at which it turned a happy green colour) and some very expensive-looking whiskey. “Good boy, Abe.” She did smile then, finding a crystal glass to pour herself a little. She was rewarded with the warm taste of the amber liquid and she relaxed into the large leather desk chair with a sigh. Slipping off her shoes, she lifted her legs and propped her feet on the corner of the desk. Abe always had a stash, and it was always the good stuff. She sipped at it daintily, appreciating the taste rather than aiming to get drunk. She’d done enough of that the night before last.

The kitten had finished playing and boldly jumped into her lap. Jac gave a little squeak and glared at the cat. “Don’t you dare.” She warned it, scared to move it in case those sharp little claws dug into her neatly pressed skirt. The kitten ignored her and promptly curled into a ball on her lap and fell asleep. Jac glared some more and when it appeared it wasn’t going to move, she grumbled and left it there. Abe was going to have to save her from the damned thing. She was not a cat person. Pickle waddled over to the edge of the desk in search of more treats and Jac distracted herself by trying to smooth the hair on the little animal’s back to no avail. She even degraded herself to making little cutesy-coo noises to encourage a volley of ‘whoop-whoop brrr’ noises from Abe’s pet paperweight. She always did have a soft spot for the little thing, even if it was ridiculous.

[Abraham Grey]

Well that was another evening that could well and truly be summed up as a disaster. Abe was exhausted, he just wanted to get back to his office and drink himself into a stupor. For a moment he was tempted to take a detour and have a good soak in the tub, he still had Ame’s blood all over him. It had started to dry and was making his shirt all crisp and flaky. The thought of good, strong, expensive liquor was more appealing though.

With a small sigh Abe paused before the door to his office to rub tiredly at the bridge of his nose with two fingers. Then he pushed open the door and almost turned round and left again. It was testament to how utterly worn out he was that he’d just wandered into Tristram’s office by mistake. Wait. That was definitely his desk, his quill, his owl and his books. Pickle was even there keeping a pile of homework warm. Why the blazes was everything so tidy?

Abe peered around the room, jaw slack in an expression of utter bewilderment. There was a woman sitting at his desk. Under normal circumstances he’d be delighted to find a woman in his office, but normally he hadn’t spent the evening rescuing students from the brink of death. Plus this woman, his mind belatedly supplied, was Jacaranda Mulicber. Great. Just what he wanted, horrifying tales of exactly how many times she’d had sex with Silas.

”You tidied my office!” He yelped accusingly, feeling alarmingly close to tears. He was a grown man, he hadn’t cried in years and he definitely wasn’t going to start now over a clean office. The stress of the evening was clearly getting to him. ”I’ll never find anything.” Abe whined. With a long-suffering sigh he flopped into the chair facing his desk and waved his wand absently at the fireplace. A fire instantly roared to life in the grate.

Resigning himself to the situation, Abe relaxed. ”I need a drink.” He said, looking meaningfully at the crystal glass in Jacaranda’s hand. He wasn’t at all surprised she’d found his stash. Abe tugged at his collar, pulling at the first button to pop it loose, then let his hand drop to pick absently and the flakes of blood clinging to the front of his shirt. All that was left now was to fix her with a suitably hurt look, she had gone and slept with Silas after all. That was just mean.

The look became a little more longing as he took in her appearance. Impossibly long legs propped up on his desk and… Was that Kristoff in her lap? Traitorous little bastard. Abe found himself hoping the kitten decided to sharpen his claws on her skirt. ”What are you doing here Jac?” He asked, not in the mood to dance around the subject, getting liberally sprayed in a student’s blood tended to make him irritable. He couldn’t help caring about them, despite the fact that they consistently refused to learn, even the Gryffindors. ”Come to gloat?”

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[Jacaranda Mulciber]

Jacaranda looked up from the essay she had been reading as the door opened, her face set in something resembling smugness. “Good evening, Abraham. Good to see you too. Oh don’t be so overdramatic; I filed everything in a logical manner, you’ll figure it out.” She put the essay back on its pile after marking it with a generous A. And that was one of the better ones. Abe came further into the room, slumping into the chair usually reserved for consulted students and set alight the fire. In the sudden increase in light, she noticed the dark stains on his shirt. Her mouth opened as if she was going to speak then she closed it.

A normal person might have expressed shock or concern. Jac simply looked him over and after determining it was not his blood, she put the glass on the desk and pushed it over to him. She kept the bottle on her side of the desk, quite aware of Abe’s drinking habits and she wanted him coherent for a little while at least. The cat chose that moment to get up and Jac flinched and glared at the little monster.

Taking her stocking feet from the desk, she stood and smoothed out her skirt, brushing off the cat hair that had accumulated. If the cat had damaged the fabric with its needle-like claws, dear Abraham was paying for it. “I’m here on business. A certain outstanding tab needs fixing, and I’m not letting you get away with it when I know you have the money to pay it off.”

She slipped around the table, taking the drink from his hand and setting it back on the desk. She bent at the waist and worked the blood-stiffened fabric free of the next few buttons while his new and improved view down her top distracted him. After checking his chest to make sure there was definitely no wound, she straightened, sat herself on the desk, crossed her legs at the knee and handed him back the glass after giving him a top-up. That was as much sympathy he was getting and by Jac’s standards, she may as well have hugged him, given him a shoulder cry on while crooning ‘there there’ and assuring him it was all going to be alright.

“What is this all about, Abe?” She gestured elegantly with one hand at the state of him. “Am I going to have to find you a good lawyer?” She doubted Abe had hurt anyone, though maybe he had changed since she knew him. She took another look at his sorry state and downtrodden expression. Nah, Abe was too soft to ever turn into an axe murderer. Besides, he would never willingly ruin his clothes.

[Abraham Grey]

”I filed everything in a logical manner!” Abe argued, leaning forward to try and see what Jacaranda had just scribbled on one of his student’s essays. Was she marking? Voluntarily? He was some what placated by the thought of somebody else dealing with the backlog of essays he just hadn’t quite got round to marking yet. ”I had a system. Still up to the same tricks I see, alphabetising charm and all.” He shuddered as though having his books in some kind of recognisable order was a crime.

She hid it well, but Abe knew her well enough to spot the hesitation as she took in the stains of blood splashed across his shirt. It took a lot to floor Jac and that was as close as he was going to get, he certainly wasn’t expecting her to fawn over him. The fact that she surrendered her glass to him was enough to make Abe feel he’d achieved some small victory. Before she could change her mind he snatched up the tumbler and knocked back what was left of the whiskey in one large gulp. The drink was too expensive for such neglectful treatment, but he was too shaken up to savour it.

Ah so that was why she was being so nice. ”Should have known you wanted money.” Abe muttered, sinking down in his chair, if he slid much further he’d be on the floor. Some small part of him had been hoping she’d dropped by to tell him she wanted him and not Silas, then maybe sex would follow. Yeah, that had clearly been wishful thinking on his part. ”I’ll have the money transferred from Gringotts in the morning. Good enough?” He huffed not bothering to put up much of a fight in the hope Jacaranda wouldn’t push it.

His breath caught as she leaned over him, the cut of her top giving him an almost criminally good view of her cleavage. This was more like it, he should promise her money more often. Her fingers at his chest, deftly unfastening the buttons of his shirt, weren’t unwelcome either. Maybe she was a mind reader, maybe sex really would follow. Abe was left disappointed as she pulled away and he settled for taking the refill she offered a little more slowly.

”Not yet,” He shook his head, looking a little reproachful that she thought he was capable of an act brutal enough to get him this slathered in blood. I haven’t quite resorted to murdering the little blighters.” Abe smiled ruefully. Was she actually interested in what had happened, or was this just going to end in another demand for money? ”One of the students was attacked this evening. Adrian and I were barely able to save her.” What the hell, when it came to Jac he wasn’t very good at avoiding blundering into the same mistakes over and over.

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[Jacaranda Mulciber]

Jacaranda huffed, eyeing Abe despairingly. “What else would I want from you, Abraham?” A quirk of a perfectly preened eyebrow suggested she knew – their track record was hardly dismissible despite her best efforts to repress it – but was unwilling to bring that subject up for discussion. She tilted her chin up, looking at her old acquaintance down her nose and exposing the clean line of her neck down to the V of her shirt. When dealing with Abe, there were two things that made him cooperate heartily: hard liquor and scantily-clad women. She had one, and as she was unwilling to give him much more to look at, she would just have to flaunt what she was sharing.

“If the money isn’t in our accounts by tomorrow evening, I’ll be paying you another visit.” Something about her tone suggested he wouldn’t enjoy a second visit. Despite her warning, she was still a little sympathetic, a momentary lapse but it would fade. Abe actually looked stressed for once. No, Abe always looked stressed. He looked anxious, and the difference was it wasn’t all about him. For a split second of insanity, she warmed to him. And then it was gone and she chased the feeling away with a swig of Abraham’s good whiskey.

The name Adrian meant little to her and she didn’t care enough to enquire further. “Well, this place has livened up since I was here. Attacked, hum? Anything I should be worried about?” Her lip curled in a slight sneer, as if whatever had troubled a mere student she could easily deal with. She picked up the pile of essays she had been working through. “Some things don’t change, however. You call this work? What exactly are you teaching in your classes? I could write better after finishing off that whiskey.” She huffed, putting the pile back on the desk with a slap and startling the guinea pig into a sickly shade of fuchsia.

[Abraham Grey]

Abe looked up at Jacaranda as she asked, his mind clearly following the same thought track as her own. Perhaps it was an accountant thing, they always had employed the same techniques for problem solving. Actually now that he thought about it they weren’t all that similar. If a tidy office meant a tidy mind then he and Jac couldn’t be more different. And, of course, Abe didn’t sleep with old men to get promotions. Mostly. He was fairly certain Minerva didn’t count anyway.

He gave a small shudder, banishing all thoughts of the aged headmistress from his mind. Thinking about her when he had Jacaranda and her ample cleavage in front of him was proof enough that the whole Amelia debacle had got to him. He quirked his eyebrows in a mirror of her own movement and suppressed a small smile. ”I can think of a few things you might want Jac.” He murmured, not above trying his luck with not so subtle hinting.

His gaze dropped once more, following the line of her neck back down to her breasts and he found himself wishing she’d been unbuttoning her own blouse instead of his shirt. He felt, in the long run, more fun would have been had by all that way round. ”Don’t tempt me to hold out on you.” He said, deliberately ignoring her warning. It was probably a mistake to as good as admit he wanted to see her again, the two of them had never been about emotional attachment. A moment of weakness, bloody Gryffindors must be rubbing off on him.

He hid behind another gulp of whiskey, the fiery drink doing its magic to burn away the stressful events of the evening thus far. At this rate he was going to get very very drunk and since he hadn’t touched the food in Connery’s office it was going to happen sooner rather than later. No matter, any drunken mistakes while Jacaranda was in the room couldn’t be all bad. ”Excitement I could do without,” Abe grumbled. ”A vampire.” He added by way of explanation. Hopefully that would be warning enough that Jac should be wary.

Abe’s lips pooched out into a pout as she changed track, deciding to criticise his teaching techniques. That was why they’d never really bothered with conversation before. She could be a grade O bitch at the best of times. ”I’ll have you know I’ve been commended on the high quality of my syllabus.” He sniffed haughtily. ”The Arithmancy Professor at Beauxbatons asked for advice just last week and my publisher suggested I start work on a textbook.” He’d always been good at flaunting his achievements.

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[Jacaranda Mulciber]

Jac was thoroughly unimpressed by his insinuation that she could be here for anything but money, and scrupulously ignored him. She supposed she couldn’t expect much else from a man, especially this one in particular. Contradictorily she fussed with her skirt, smoothing it and making sure her legs were displayed to their full potential. She just couldn’t help herself really. Teasing Abe was as irresistible as scratching an itch.

The idea that he might hold out on giving her money however had her scowl back firmly in place, and she promptly stopped primping herself. Withholding money was a serious matter, and would be cause for serious measures. Best not give him any ideas about seeing her again then lest he use that very dangerous excuse to see her again.

The rate at which he was consuming the alcohol raised her brow and she peered judgementally at him. The reason for his stress however seemed just. “A vampire? That’s a little… exotic.” Vampires were alarming at the best of times, one running rampant around Hogwarts no less was downright frightening. It was a wonder Abe had even involved himself with the incident. She made a mental note to make sure she had no excuse to go out at night again. How dangerously close had she come to it just coming here tonight? The hair on the back of her neck rose and she looked somewhat ruffled. Thankfully she could distract herself with Abe. There was a turn for the books; Abe, a welcome distraction.

“Let me guess – you slept with them both? Abraham you’re good, but not that good. If your face wasn’t such a prize-winner and likely to sell more books than some old crone, I bet there are more sensible-minded professors that would be asked instead write a simple text book.” She sniffed conceitedly, covering her slip-up. Whoops, he wasn’t supposed to know she indulged in Witch Weekly, let alone she knew about his second-place Most Charming Smile award. The fact was, Abraham was good at his work, exceedingly so, but there was little chance she was ever acknowledging that.

“You can’t seriously expect me to believe you like working here? It’s full of children.” Her expressive nose wrinkled in distain. She caught the now-teal rodent on the desk nibbling at the handle of her wand and she saved it and scrutinised it for damage. Finding none, she kept it in her hand where it rested on the desk. With the other, she confiscated the bottle so at least he wouldn’t be unconscious before she was done insulting him.

[Abraham Grey]

Abe could be forgiven for thinking Jacaranda wanted him to look at her, the way she kept shifting, drawing attention to new delights for him to lay eyes on. Surely it wasn’t possible to smooth out her skirt and somehow end up with more leg on display, but somehow how she managed it and Abe appreciatively eyed up the further inch of thigh available to him. He was almost willing to forget that she had chosen Silas.

Actually he was more than willing to forget it, it was all down to whether he could persuade her to do so too. ”Mmm,” He agreed, not really paying attention to her words as he tilted the tumbler in his hand a little despondently to signify his dissatisfaction that it was empty. ”It appears Hogwarts isn’t as safe as we once thought.” Abe gave up on the hope that his glass was going to miraculously refill itself and decided to focus instead on trying persuade Jac that repeating history would be a good idea.

”Didn’t Silas warn you?” He asked, feigning concerned interest. ”He’s had his fair share of run ins with our fanged friend himself.” It was a dirty trick, and one that Jacaranda was likely too intelligent to fall for. If only it could be that easy to poison her against her employer. Two whiskeys down the line he felt it was worth a shot though, by his reasoning it might not help, but at least it couldn’t harm his chances.

”I did no such thing!” Abe protested, seemingly so outraged by the suggestion that he sat up rather suddenly from his slouch, balancing precariously on the very edge of the chair. ”That’s not my style.” He added acidly, drawing attention to Jac’s own reputation for sleeping around to get what she wanted. Not exactly gentlemanly, but if she was going to insult his abilities as an Arithmancy Professor he was going to give as good as he got.

A slow smile spread across Abe’s features. Two could play at Jacaranda’s game of selective hearing. ”I am rather dashing aren’t I.” He said with a certain amount of arrogance. ”Some might even call me charming.” Abe emphasised, he hadn’t actually won, but coming in second was better than not being nominated at all. Besides the jig was up, Jac wasn’t immune to the whims of women after all. Of course he wouldn’t mention his own subscription to the weekly magazine, secreted away in the bottom drawer of his desk under his copy of Busty Banshees.

Abe had to laugh at her horror at the thought of spending any length of time around the younger generations. ”They’re not so bad,” He said, not entirely sure why he was defending his choice of career to her. He spent half his time complaining about it and the other half drinking to try and forget about it. ”They like me well enough and I can boss them around. Detention is a great way of getting those unpleasant tasks done.”

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[Jacaranda Mulciber]

Jacaranda kept up her famed poker face, eyeing Abe with distain. Of course Silas would have told her, he had just been busy. There was that warning he had given to the dancers about not going in the alley for their breaks – that made sense now as she connected the dots. Silas might be a ruthless businessman, but she couldn’t believe he would unintentionally neglect to tell her about a dangerous mythical creature lurching around in the dark waiting for snacks to wonder by. Silas must have known she rarely stepped outside of Scores so he didn’t need to trouble her with the knowledge.

She distracted herself from the train of thought by snorting at Abe’s denial and his poisonous insinuation. “Not your style?” She leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “And what do you mean by that, Abraham?” She knew full well what he was implying, and she was very well not impressed. She clenched her wand tighter, slender knuckled whitening just a little.

Abe seemed to be enlightened by something. She groaned inwardly. Damn that perceptive bastard – she should have known he’d be the only one to catch her subtle tells. “You’re sub-par. That Potter, now there’s a charming man.” No doubt Abe would hate that – he never did like losing. “You haven’t changed at all, Abraham. You’re still that same self-appreciating man who will never be the best at anything because you lack the drive to get what you want. You’ll always be second-rate.” She snapped with a little more irritation than she had wanted to let on.

Abe had a knack of getting under her skin. She suspected it was the infuriatingly smug expression that he got when he actually managed to do something intelligent. She shouldn’t let him get to her, but there was satisfaction in directing the most scathing insults she could manage at a man she hated.

[Abraham Grey]

Suddenly Jacaranda was glaring at Abe in a way that reminded him exactly why the two of them hadn’t parted on good terms. She was scary and clever and she had boobs, a dangerous combination and one that Abe didn’t much want to get tangled up in. ”Umm,” He said, swallowing hard. Fortunately he had the good sense to trail off that point, especially when he spotted the wand gripped tightly in her hand. He’d been lucky she hadn’t cursed him yet and the lack of action on her part had lulled him into a false sense of security.

He latched onto their other train of conversation and clung on tight, in the hope that his failure to win Witch Weekly’s Most Charming Smile award would be enough to mollify her before she decided to hex his balls off. ”Potter is about as charming as a blast ended skrewt in a sundress.” Abe muttered only half convinced his protest was in order to keep her satisfied that he was suitably outraged and didn’t need additional jinxing.

In truth he was still just a tad bitter that Harry bloody Potter had beaten him to the prize. Seriously, the guy wasn’t much of a looker and his hairline had been receding ever since he hit his thirties. At twenty-nine Abe was still officially young, at least for another, oh, couple of weeks. Merlin his birthday was that soon. Not that he voiced these thoughts to Jac, she was older after all and it wasn’t polite to point out a woman’s age. Not when said woman was holding a wand.

Jac, it seemed, had no compunction to hold back. He pouted, standing because he didn’t like the way he had to look up at her while she was perched on the edge of his desk. ”I am the best.” He argued hotly. ”The best in my field and that’s what I want. Just because I don’t want a job at my father’s firm and trophy wife doesn’t mean I’m a failure, Jac.” If he was getting under her skin it was nothing compared to what she could do to him.

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