It's Not A Date, It's A Vacation (Of a sort)

Keith liked the Three Broomsticks. Maybe it was because of the atmosphere, or maybe it was the drinks and food (both of which were excellent) or maybe it was just the fact he hadn't been able to visit in so long. Keith often found himself wanting things he couldn't have...maybe that was why alcohol had begun to lose its flair. He ordered a soda instead, and a steak sandwich with cheese.

He could eat a horse. He deserved to eat a horse. He had managed to not only ace his transfiguration test with less than half an hour of study, he had also finished his charms essay and successfully delivered 300 galleons worth of Spice to a particularly sketchy wizard just outside diagon alley. All in the same week. He was exhausted, but he had a full pocket (several actually) and a night to kick back and enjoy himself before having to go back to school.

He checked his watch. Ten minutes past six - he had very specifically told Wally to meet him at six. Was she not coming? She was usually on time. He wouldn't be surprised if she didn't show actually. Wally wasn't a very social person, but he felt a twang of annoyance that she didn't at least put that aside to meet him for dinner (if only to pick up her share of the galleons)

"And to think," he muttered to himself, looking down at the t-shirt that actually fit and the least ratty pair of jeans he owned, (Which wasn't saying much) "I even got all dressed up."

Wally had been confused by Keith's request. She did not understand what business they could possibly have at The Three Broomsticks. All she knew was he wanted her to go, and as a good business partner, she had better make it her business to go. She had been on her way out when that pesky prefect found her. He had tried to befriend her this year, presumably to make her spy against Keith, and now on her way out, he confronted her.

"Where are you going, Wilhelmina?"

"I don't answer to that name."

"Where are you going?"

"You don't have any real power, you know."

She tried to duck past him, but he grabbed her arm and began ranting to her, asking her if she really thought dabbling in whatever it was she was dabbling in was a good use of her time and talents, asking if she wanted to end up like 'that ruffian' Keith. Wally grimaced and stomped on the prefect's toe. He released her. She bellowed "F*ck da police!" and took off running.


Fifteen minutes late, but that couldn't be helped. She did a quick scan of the little pub and walked over to who was, undoubtedly, the shortest person there. She sat across from him, tightening her braids and said, "Had a run in. Sorry." A waitress seemed to materialize and she brushed the pocket that held the galleons she had nicked from her sister's trunk. "A Sprite and a grilled cheese with fries."

She had shown up after all. Keith was more than a little surprised, and actually a little pleased. She would set aside her anti-social tendencies. He was almost touched.

"No problem," he said, taking a bite of his sandwich. "That prefect again? I told you I could handle him of you want me to." He grinned. "But glad you could make it. You'll be happy to know the most recent delivery went off without a hitch...here's your share." He dug around in his pocket for a rather large pouch full of clinking golden coins. "Seventy galleons. Enjoy." He took another bite of his sandwich. "And don't worry about the food, it's on me."

He had already begun eating, which was good, because Wally knew she sure as hell would not have waited for her company to arrive to eat. When Wally was hungry, nothing else mattered to her, so she was glad to see she had not prevented Keith from beginning to enjoy his dinner. At his recognition of the prefect, she nodded and then shrugged at his repeated offer. "Eh." And yes, that was all she really had to say on the subject.

And then he handed over the money. Wally might have developed a more sensitive conscience had she never met Keith, but at this rate, she was going to remain skewed in her reasoning as ever. This money was a godsend. She had been running low but this could get her through the rest of the year if she played her cards right. Hell, she could move out by fifth year, maybe go back home. "Thanks," she commented, an actual smile working her way onto her face.

Kent shrugged his shoulders at Wally's casual dismissal of his offer to get rid of the prefect. "You can't do everything yourself you know," he said, taking a sip of his soda. "Nobody can. Cept me of course...I'm special." He flashed her a grin.

"Glad to see you like the money at least. Guy who gave 'em to me was weird as hell, but the money seems real. Been more than a couple hours and it hasn't vanished, so I don't think I got ripped off." He had had some trouble with that early on in his career, but had since developed a potion that burned away leprechaun gold and left normal galleons (mostly) unharmed. Since Wally had gotten her hands on the formula, the galleons seemed to even be cleaner coming out than they did going in. (Although they smelled oddly of fish)

"Sure I can," she said in a crisp, casual voice. It was as though she did not even consider it to be true, that she could not provide for herself. She felt as though she had done it thus far, and she did not even begin to fathom and she could not simply continue to do so. She was just fine, really, and she could continue on that way.

She rolled her eyes with a small smile at his words. She listened to his description of the man he had traded with with interest. The waitress had brought her the clear, bubbly drink she had ordered, and she sipped through the straw as she listened. She nodded and said, "Good, I don't like having things taken away." The waitress brought her the food she had ordered and Wally bit into it. She swallowed. "This is actually really good."

Keith chuckled at Wally's thought that she could do everything. If there was anybody he could compare to a swiss army knife, it was her, so maybe she'd have a good shot. But the social stuff would get in her way. Not like she could avoid that, unless she was out like a hermit or something.

"Of course it's good," He said when she mentioned how good the food was. "It's the three broomsticks. It's always goo-"

A horrible thought struck him.

"Don't tell me...this is the first time you've been to the three broomsticks," he said warily, eyeing her like a hunter who doesn't quite believe the tiger is completely caught in the trap. "It's the three broomsticks. It's like a Hogwarts requirement. If you haven't been here before...I dunno Wally, there's only so much I can do..."

It seemed that Keith had mistaken Wally's tendancies to be less-social as the tendancies of some agoraphobic recluse who would have never set foot outside had it not been for his efforts. Before she could stop him, his mind had taken her comment and blown it completely out of proportion as she was learning Keith had a tendancy to do.

And she was the crazy one.

Right.

She gave him an exasperated, though not unfirendly, glare. "I just haven't had the grilled cheese, dummy. The last time I was here, I had a disgustingly rare hamburger." Then again, that could have been the fault of her idiotic sister. "I'm not as bad as you think, you know. And besides, your public relations are hardly exemplary." There was always talk of Keith getting himself in sticky spots with people.

Keith shrugged noncommittally at Wally's suggestion that he was only imagining her social problems. He felt a rush of something like heat and inwardly directed distaste - regret? Embarrassment? Impossible. He settled for nodding sagely.

Keith had found that very little in life couldn't be solved with a few sage nods.

"I have perfectly good public relations," he said, picking around his sandwich. He spoke slowly, careful, a departure from his usual carefree chatter. It felt odd to slow down the pace of his words and really think about what he was saying, instead of flying by on instinct and a few prayers. 'I simply...." he continued, mulling over a few options, "seem to find a way to push people's buttons."

He was an excellent button pusher actually. He could push buttons like nobodies buisness. Keith considered himself an olympic level button pusher. He was actually quite proud of his ability to push buttons. There was no satisfaction like the satisfaction gained from seeing someone become completely and utterly exasperated with you.

Wally raised an eyebrow as Keith said that he was good at public relations. Now that was a lie through his teeth. Sure, people liked Keith- he was a fun kid who hooked up adolescents with addictive drugs. He was bound to be popular in school. But Keith did have his share of enemies, all because he had a bit of a mouth. Public relations was nowhere near 'perfectly good.'

He seemed to realize he was in dangerous waters and she watched him, amused. She rested her elbows on the table, taking her attention away from the deliciously simple meal before her, and focused her attention fully on the short boy before her that was her business partner. She folded her hands and tilted her head, listening to him ease his way out there.

At his words she snorted and nodded. "Right." She reached forward and took a drink of her Butterbeer. "That's all. And Spice is a mildly popular fad." She could make understatements too. She chuckled and then slipped back into her normal demeanor, her face wiping clear as she reached forward, picking up her grilled cheese and taking another bite.