I Call That Naked O'Clock (open)

[Christopher Sterling]

Topher’s heart was thundering in his chest, his palms were sweaty and he was pretty close to freaking out. It wasn’t like he hadn’t gone undercover before, he was an Auror after all. But, if he was honest with himself, he hadn’t been all that good at it and all the other occasions had been training exercises with the full backup of his colleagues. He still didn’t really understand what was why he’d got the lowest marks in the class, what was wrong with just wandering up to have a chat with the mark? It wasn’t like he was going to just blurt out ‘oh hay, by the way I’m totally spying on you.’

He took a couple of deep breaths, reminding himself that he wasn’t even really undercover. This wasn’t official business, he was off the clock. Just some guy going to a popular strip club to have some innocent fun… Okay maybe innocent was stretching the definition of the word a little. Anyway if he should happen to overhear and record some irrefutable proof that the scumbag Silas Rosier was up to no good then all the better. And if he didn’t that didn’t matter either, he was just checking out the place, making sure he was familiar with the surroundings for future visits.

Tugging up his collar against the chill evening air in Leicester Square he stood up and cut a determined path across the pavement to Scores, tucked away next to the Odeon with inviting, neon lights over the door that only magical folk could see, the muggle’s eyes sliding past the spot as though it were an empty alleyway. He hadn’t brought his robe, relying instead on a muggle jacket he’d borrowed from Steven who was into the whole muggle clothing thing. It was a little too small for him and tight across the shoulders, but Topher figured it was better to be wearing a jacket on the small side than a full on robe if you were going to be loitering in one of muggle London’s biggest attractions.

Once inside he realised he was going to have to pay to get in to the club proper, what was up with that? Topher muttered a few profanities, which only made the receptionist raise her overly-plucked eyebrows at him, and fumbled in his jeans pocket for the right change. His heart felt like it was going to leap into his throat as he walked past the two burly bouncers on the door, certain that they were going to stop him and throw him out. But they didn’t, not even affording him particular scrutiny.

Topher grinned. Fuck yeah! He was the man! He resisted the urge to punch the air and celebrate his success with a rather loud whoop of joy, realising a reaction like that might turn a few heads. Instead he started a quick sweep of the room, eyes straying over to the stage… Holy fuck, they hadn’t been kidding about the stripper part! Topher averted his eyes, feeling slightly guilty for watching as her fingers strayed dangerously close to unhooking the clasp of her bra. Maybe he’d start over near the bar and work his way up to standing near the naked women…

[Rickie Connery]

Rickie’s heart was thundering in his chest but for much different reasons than Topher’s. Standing looking at the small fireplace of his room at the Three Broomsticks he began to grow nervous at the thought of work. He hated it with the flashing lights and loud noises but he had to go, there was no other way he’d be able to afford the Three B’s and avoid Adrian at the same time. His brother’s morals were far too high for him to ever set foot in a strip club, or gentleman’s club as Silas called it. Whatever it was it was the one place Rickie was safe from an unwanted reunion.

Throwing a pinch of floo powder into the fire and after stepping into the emerald green flames and muttering a few words, the young man found himself stuck in the Leaky Cauldron’s fire grate. It seemed they still hadn’t enlarged it for him; this was the third time this week. For some reason Rickie grew irrationally angry, swearing and cursing as the bartender worked to free him of both the confines of the fire and the ash on his clothes. For a moment after he stepped into the dingy pub his anger flared violently. He wanted to lay into the barkeep but instead swore at him and made him promise enlarge the grate so his 6’4 frame could fit through it.

Still muttering curses under his breath, Rickie pushed through the front door and out into the streets of London and there his anger dissipated. If there was any place he dreaded more than work it was here. The streets were packed with people laughing, talking and shouting. More than once he’d slipped into a flashback while walking to Leicester Square and he was horrified that it might happen again. To try and make sure that fear wasn’t realised, the man practically sprinted through the crowd all the way to Scores. With a great sigh of relief he walked through the doors only he could see, passed the receptionist and straight to the bar, no noticing that he had bumped past a blond man on the way.

The girl currently at work as the barkeep was almost overjoyed to see him, especially because he was a little early. Instantly she was gone and he was at work serving customers with a pained smile of his face that looked more like a smirk. ”Hi, what can I get you?” he asked dully over and over again. He turned to the same blond man he’d bumped before but hesitated this time, there was a faint feeling of recognition which was soon shrugged off. ”Hi there, what is it I can get for you?” Rickie asked the man, still having not realised it was Tofu Sterling, one of his best friends from his school years.

[Christopher Sterling]

The bar was much like any other bar Topher had ever been to. Apart from the worryingly close proximity of semi-nude girls, of course, so he wasn’t really sure where he could look that didn’t somehow encroach on their privacy. Part of Topher, a very small part buried right at the back of his mind underneath a whole heap of chivalry, realised that they were strippers and that looking was kind of the point, but he was perfectly content to scrutinise the floor instead, thank you very much.

Topher shuffled over to the bar, almost tripping over his own feet and then the leg of a barstool as he tried to navigate his way through the crowded space without making eye contact with anyone or raising his gaze to look where he was going. Finally he reached the front of the crowd of patrons waiting to get served and felt some comfort that he was now just another guy in a group of guys getting a drink. Drinks he could do, having a beer with his colleagues after work was a staple part of being an Auror.

The bartender finally reached him and Topher looked up from where his finger had been worrying at a dent in the mostly smoothly polished surface of the bar. The request for a nice manly drink like a beer died on his lips and his eyes widened in surprise, eyebrows shooting up so far his expression was almost a parody of shock. ”Well fuck me!” He exclaimed, all that self-conscious tension melting away as though he’d suddenly forgotten he was in a strip club, which, to be honest, he probably had as all his attention was now focused on the man in front of him.

”Rickie Connery!” Topher’s face lit up with a pleased grin and he practically bounced up onto the balls of his feet in excitement. ”Where the fuck have you been, man?” He reached across the counter between them to punch Rickie on the arm, the ultimate show of male camaraderie and in Topher’s mind proof that there were no hard feelings between them for his friend pretty much up and vanishing on him for nearly 3 years. ”You disappear without a trace after graduation and show up behind the bar of strip joint of all places, I mean what the hell? Way to blow my fucking mind!”

[Rickie Connery]

As each customer shouted, slurred or motioned what they wanted Rickie fetched them what they wanted with newly acquired expertise. If it weren’t for the loud noises, the occasional flashback, broken bottles and glasses he’d actually have made a good bartender. Not once had he been swindled while coherent; the young man’s fine Arithmancy and mathematical skills made it easy for him to calculate the precise amount of money owed and change to be given. Aside from that advantage he knew by now how to mix the drinks and he was never distracted by the dancers. If it was his old self working behind the bar then sure, Rickie would have probably spent his entire shift taking a peek but as it were that was not the case.

These days Rickie hardly glanced at the women on the stages let alone any other woman, except Lilly. Since meeting the artist a few days ago he’d found his thoughts straying to her whenever he had a moments peace. This also meant that as of late he’d been having less nightmares and flashbacks; a thought that made him smile as he cleaned the bar. A cry of “Well fuck me!” snapped his attention back to the blond haired man he’d asked what he was after a few moments earlier. The man jumped, dropping the glass that was in his hands which attracted curious looks from the other patrons.

Then the blond haired man reached across the counter and punched him on the arm. As soon as it even looked like it was going to happen Rickie’s mind went into flashback mode. Here was an enemy trying to kill him and Rickie had to stop him whatever way he could without any kind of weapon. Instantly the taller man grabbed the fist as it made contact with his arm and pulled it so the blond came into range of his other hand. What Topher was saying barely registered as Rickie punched him in the jaw with trained efficiency. It was only when his knuckles collided with jaw did it register that this strange man had said his name, he knew him, and Rickie come back to reality. At once he recognised who he’d hit.

”Oh shit, oh God. Topher is that you? I’m so sorry,” Rickie stammered, going bright red. After three years of not a word nor sign, hitting your previous best mate was probably not the best way to get reacquainted.

[Christopher Sterling]

Rickie started, dropping the glass in his hand and letting it smash on the floor and Topher’s over-eager grin dropped into a slight frown. His friend looked like a rabbit caught in the wand light, totally caught off guard, face paler than he’d ever seen it and only accentuated by the dark circles under his eyes. It hadn’t been so long had it that Rickie might have forgotten he swore like a trooper? If he was going to bump into any of his old school chums Rickie of all people should have been the least surprised that Topher was still loud, overly-excitable and just a little bit abrasive.

And then Rickie had hold of his fist and was dragging him forwards across the bar, his knees thudding painfully against the wood as he was pulled forwards. Somehow in that moment Topher managed to forget all his auror training and just kind of flailed uselessly, caught utterly off-guard. When Harry had been teaching them he’d said something about constant vigilance (Topher should know, he’d taken word for word notes) which he’d just thought was a kind of funny thing to say, but now he was beginning to see the wisdom of those words. Rickie’s fist smashed into his jaw. Yep. Harry Potter was a very wise man.

Topher stumbled back at pace as Rickie released the grip on his fist, his hand instantly going to his jaw as the taste of copper welled in his mouth. ”Ow!” He winced as moving his jaw only made it hurt more, not that this stopped him from trying to speak. ”Fuck!” Topher let his tongue search out the spot where his teeth must have caught the flesh inside his cheek. ”Fuckin’ ow!” Finally he looked up at Rickie reproachfully, still rubbing at his jaw even as the man began to apologise.

”Yes its bloody me!” He complained, wiping a thumb across the corner of his mouth to clear up a small dribble of blood. ”Did you have to punch me to find out?” Topher started to reach across the bar to retrieve a cloth and some ice, then seemed to think better of invading Rickie’s personal space again. ”What the fuck happened to you man? I mean paranoid much?” He pointed at his jaw, if Rickie thought he was getting off the hook with one apology then he was very much mistaken. ”I could have you arrested for that shit! I’m an auror now you know.” So much for undercover, but then Topher hand never been very good at keeping any exciting news to himself and being an auror was damn exciting.

[Rickie Connery]

Like Topher, for a moment Rickie flailed, completely shocked at what he’d done. What if that had been someone like Silas or, worse yet, Lilly? Going paler than usual Rickie quickly gathered up some ice and a cloth before handing it to Topher. ”Hold that on there for a bit,” he ordered sharply before muttering a profuse apology at the tone of his voice. The matter-of-fact Medic way of doing things was a hard habit to be rid of it seemed.

Rickie hoped that he hadn’t broken Topher’s jaw and he had to resist the urge to go check it out. A good part of him wanted to, the Medic part in particular, but he’d really done enough already. Still it would bother him if he didn’t but then again he was sure Topher would be less than impressed if he did start handling he jaw. It was an intense internal struggle that went on even as Topher started talking again. As soon as the blond haired man opened his mouth to speak Rickie wanted to tell him to keep it shut so as not to hurt the jaw any more.

But he didn’t, instead he let Topher talk but watched his carefully in an attempt the gauge how much pain the other man was in. All signs pointed to not broken but as it was Topher Rickie couldn’t be too sure, the man could talk through anything. ”Something like that,” he answered to the paranoia part of what his old friend had said. He wasn’t really that paranoid, just jumpy. Shit had he just said he was an Auror?

”An Auror huh?” Rickie mused half-interested and half-panicking. If Topher was an Auror that would mean there was a fair chance he’d know Adrian and that in turn meant that news of his whereabouts would travel to his older brother. ”Why is an Auror in Scores?” he questioned suspiciously; a strip club was the last place any Aurors were seen coming through. The Ministry weren’t exactly fans of the problems with the respectable law-enforcement image it posed, or something like that. Rickie hadn’t really been listening to what one of the managers had been ranting about.

[Christopher Sterling]

It wasn’t really a consolation that Rickie looked just as shocked about what he’d done as Topher was to be on the receiving end of the blow. He liked to think that if he was getting punched in the face there was a reason for it, not that he went around doing things that earned him a beating, but still! Being hit in the jaw for no reason was worse and so Topher spent a moment or two thinking back to the last time he’d seen Rickie to see if there was any outstanding bad blood between them.

There wasn’t. Not that he could recall anyway. If anything Rickie deserved a good smack for disappearing without a trace for three years. ”Thanks man.” He said, accepting the cloth and pressing the cool fabric to his chin. Normally he’d have sulkily refused Rickie’s help, he was too manly and heroic to feel pain or something, but his jaw really fucking hurt. Especially when he moved it about, which he was currently doing to secretly test if it was actually going to fall off or if it just felt that way.

”Fuck, that’s some right hook you got there.” Topher stepped back up to the bar, relaxing now that he was fairly certain Rickie wasn’t going to try to hit him again. His friend still looked nervous though, which he chalked up to feeling bad punching him. ”Wouldn’t mind you having my back in a brawl that’s for sure, dude.” He added to try and make Rickie feel a little better about it. Topher was an awesome friend like that.

He leaned against the bar, lopsided grin in place because he was trying not to move half his face and nodded enthusiastically, pleased Rickie had asked. Well sort of, he looked a little distracted, but Topher was going to answer because telling people about his job never got old. ”I only mentioned what I was gonna be when I grew up all the damn time at school, like at least once a week, every week for seven fucking years, as if you’re surprised.” He lifted his free hand and waved his fingers mysteriously and topped the gesture off with an exaggerated wink. ”And if I told you that I’d have to kill you. Now how about a drink for old time’s sake?”

[Rickie Connery]

There was no smile from Rickie when his right hook was complimented. If anything it made his brow furrow in shame and anger; he’d been trained to hit that well. Luckily he never got flashbacks of training, which had been a peaceful walk in the part compared to the rest of his time at war. To distract himself from anymore memories of being a soldier the man immersed himself in the memory of Lilly White at the Three Broomsticks. It did well until Topher started speaking again.

”Keep the ice on your jaw for about twenty minutes,” Rickie ordered, again in his medic’s forceful tone. He flinched at the mention of brawling, he never wanted to fight or be involved in any form of conflict again. ”I don’t think so mate,” the taller man mumbled, shaking his head profusely. It wasn’t just the fact that he hated conflict; he could be potentially dangerous to anyone around him. His manager had even taken to keeping sharp objects out of his reach (which was difficult considering Rickie was six foot four) while he was working. It hadn’t been his fault he’d mistaken a pen for a morphine stick when one of the dancers had broken her ankle. He wondered if Silas had found out about that yet.

Rickie smiled weakly back at Topher, it had been a forced smile. The man was happy to see Topher again but the blond haired man served as a reminder of what Rickie’s life had been like back before war fucked him up. If Topher expected him to be the same, happy, funny, flirty, outgoing guy he had been before disappearing for three years then he was sadly mistaken. Rickie inwardly sighed and nodded at his old friend as he spoke. ”Yeah I guess I didn’t listen to you. What do you want to drink?” he said quietly, part of his old humour shining through. Reunions were stressful, God he needed a smoke.

[Christopher Sterling]

Being punched in the face probably should have given Topher a clue that Rickie wasn’t the same friend he’d known at school. That wasn’t what tipped him off, though; it was the way Rickie seemed to be staring off over his shoulder into the middle-distance. Like he was distracted by something. Topher resisted the urge to peer over his shoulder and check if it was a stripper or something equally lewd. There was a reason he’d chosen to go and get a drink at the bar facing away from the stage.

”Yes mum.” He said with a grin at Rickie’s order, shifting the icepack on his chin and using his other hand to wipe at the cold, clammy skin of his neck where the melting ice had soaked through the cloth and made him damp. Topher scowled, he knew a few simple healing spells, but he’d never been very good at casting them on himself, so he’d have to stick with the tedious and kind of uncomfortable ice route if he wanted to avoid some nasty bruising and a lot of teasing at work tomorrow.

”Sure I would,” He encouraged, wondering why Rickie would deny it. It wasn’t often Topher stroked another guys ego... because, well, that was kinda gay. ”You and me, back to back giving it the old one, two.” Topher bobbed from one foot the other, lifting his one free hand to mimic a boxer, then stopping rather abruptly when he almost shouldered into the man standing at the bar next to him. Talking about a fight was one thing, but accidentally getting involved in one was entirely another, especially when the other guy was much burlier. Not to mention Saeros and Adrian would probably be pissed about that and he was already on probation.

”Yeah, yeah, you fucking suck.” Topher griped, not really meaning it. What was with Rickie being all self-defeating, that wasn’t very Gryffindor of him? This time it was his turn to look over Rickie’s shoulder, but only because he was checking the drinks list behind him on the bar. Topher’s eyes strayed to the cocktails and he bit his lip. Yeah they were kinda girly, but they tasted damn good. It wasn’t like Rickie didn’t already know about his shameful sweet tooth, unless he’d forgotten that along with the Auror thing. ”Something sweet, maybe with cranberry in it. Is the horny harpy any good?”

[Rickie Connery]

Rickie rolled his eyes at his old friend, not really paying attention to what he was saying. The urge to light up was becoming stronger as reacquainting himself with Topher began to put more pressure on him. He glanced around nervously, starting to drum his fingers on the bar. He laughed slightly at being called ‘Mum’; that was a new one. Normally it was ‘asshole’ or ‘bastard’ or even ‘son of a bitch’ if he was lucky. Sometimes he’d been called a hero later but for some reason he liked mum better, sounded a bit more homely and normal.

”I should tell you to stop talking but that’s never going to happen is it?” he remarked sternly, frowning at Topher’s lack of keeping his jaw still. Moving it was only going to make the pain and bruising worse. If it hadn’t been decreed that Rickie couldn’t have his wand on him while working he would have healed the blond man properly but for now the ice was going to have to do.

”No fucking way, I don’t do any kind of fighting, not anymore,” Rickie said whilst shaking his head violently. No way in Hell would he do anything but try and break up conflict now. He’d seen too much of it; too many people die senselessly because of it. ”Stop bringing it up otherwise I’ll have to give you a lump on the other side to match the first one,” the man threatened gruffly, glaring at Topher. ”You wish I sucked,” Rickie quipped back automatically.

He followed Topher’s gaze to the drinks menu and readied himself to make whatever ridiculously sweet and girly cocktail he was sure his old friend would go for. Sure enough Rickie was right. ”The women who come through here seem to like it,” he answered with a smirk, ”I wouldn’t know myself, I don’t drink.”