It stops them tasting of apricots and makes them taste like honey but if you wanted honey then you should just buy honey instead of apricots

When the invitation had first slid through the lips of her letterbox, Alice had been sorely tempted to reply with regret. The transition between Ambassadors had not been a comfortable and smooth one and increasingly she found she had very little time for herself let alone friends and family. The housewarming had come at an impossible time for her in many ways but as the days were whittled away, Alice finally bit the figurative bullet and replied that she would be in attendance before expressing to the Ambassador that she would be having the evening off regardless of what happened during the day. The said Ambassador was decidedly unimpressed but Alice’s fatigue at the end of that particular evening prevented her from mustering the energy to care. Instead she focused on the day ahead, one which promised to be shorter than she had come to be used to and, hopefully, easier too.

A good night’s sleep allowed her to awaken for the day ahead with a more positive attitude and Alice was quite happily to return to the Ministry. Even at the sight of a mountain of paperwork, Alice’s mood remained fair and genial. Throughout the morning she worked tirelessly on the little tower before breaking for lunch, going out with a few other girls from the office. After returning with a coffee and a slice of banoffee pie she worked until around three o’clock when she finally signed herself out for the day, dropping the tower into the basket for the Ambassador to sign off on – ensuring that he had to stay in the office long after his family would have liked. She felt it was poetic justice and couldn’t help but smirk as she strode out of the office, waiting only a moment before Apparating out of the Ministry and back to her apartment.

Just as Alice let herself in, the telephone began to ring as if on call and she hurried inside, dropping her bag and her keys on the floor by the door that slammed shut before darting over to take the phone up off of the hook.

“Hello?” She exclaimed breathlessly, leaning back against the wall, her head resting on the frame of an ocean painting she’d purchased on Portobello Road one afternoon a few weeks before. Her spare hand came up and tugged at the pendant of her necklace, running it back and forth along the chain for a few moments as she waited.

“Alice!” The shriek was almost instantaneous and even though she was used to it, Alice still winced a little. “I’m so glad you picked up.”

“I’ve literally just walked in through the door, Jem.” Alice exhaled with a laugh, pushing off from the wall. She tugged at the clasp of her watch with her teeth and lifted it off of her dainty wrist, setting it carefully onto the side table next to the phone socket.

“Oh, Merlin, did I interrupt something?” Jemma worried from the other end.

Alice smiled a little. “No, you’re fine. Listen, what’s going on – I’m seeing you in a couple of hours.”

“I know!” Jemma replied airily. “I just wanted to make sure you’re still coming.”

Alice laughed openly, slipping off her shoes and making her way into her bedroom. She opened the door of the wardrobe and stepped inside, immediately beginning to scan the racks for something to wear.

“Am I really that bad?” She inquired idly, picking a dress up off of the rail before looking around in search of a jacket to wear.

“Yes Alice Rousseau. You really are that bad.” Jemma laughed. Alice took out a jacket and put both under her arm before getting shoes off of one of the shelves. “You are still coming. Promise you’re coming, Allie. Please. Please. Pleeeeeaaaseeee.”

“Do you want white wine or red?” Alice asked, shutting off the light in the wardrobe as she moved back into her bedroom, kicking the door back behind her.

“Oh, gosh… red! Wait, no… white. What goes with fish? I don’t know what Dan is cooking – DAN!”

Alice winced, laughing to herself as she left the clothes hung up on the door frame. The blonde padded into the kitchen and found herself out some orange juice which she poured into a glass, waiting patiently for her friend to return from berating her husband. Jemma and Dan had been together for ten years. They’d all gone to Beauxbatons together and it seemed as though there had never been a time when Jemma hadn’t been with Dan and vice versa. As soon as they’d met they were joined at the hip and things had just clicked for them. They’d married straight after school and Dan had joined his father’s company. Jenna had done an art and design course and was working for a fashion house and the two had moved to England in tandem with Alice nigh on. Then, all of the friends were together and, now that their house had been finalised, it was time to party, too.

“Apparently it’s fish... or something. I don’t know. Anyway, you are coming, aren’t you? C’mon, I’ve set your place and everything.”

“Especially for me?” Alice retorted sardonically after taking a sip of her orange juice. “I’m coming, don’t worry. I booked the evening off.”

“Good because otherwise Ollie will be the only singleton there and it’ll be terrible and awkward. Dan! Dan! The florist is here!”

Alice shook her head and set down her glass, moving over to the bread bin set on the kitchen island. She opened it up and retrieved a croissant, balancing the phone between her ear and her shoulder, electing to use both hands to open up the pastry. As she listened to the goings on, Alice spread marmalade onto the croissant and just as she started to lick the knife, Jemma returned with full force.

“So white wine and you’re coming and I’ll introduce you to Ollie and David’s coming, I’m sorry, but it’s fine, right, because he’s engaged to Juliette now so surely it won’t be weird… right? Will it be weird?”

Alice sighed and dropped the knife into the bowl in the sink.

“Oh God, it’ll be weird. Allie I’m sorry.” Jemma whined.

“No, no.” Alice closed her eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. “No, it’s fine. Believe me. It’s fine. I’ll just get horribly drunk and we can all forget about it, okay?”

“I’ve ruined the party, haven’t I? You don’t need to go, Allie. Really. We can do something later. A movie night in the week sometime, eh?”

Alice shook her head. “I’ve booked the time off now. No, I’m going. It doesn’t matter. I’ll see you in a few hours, alright?”

“Don’t be late!”

With a click, Jemma was gone and silence stretched out in the apartment apart from the faint twitter of birds outside one of the kitchen windows and the blaring of cards down in the streets below. With a heavy sigh, Alice trudged back to the hall table where she put down the phone and took a moment to gather herself. It was potentially going to be one of the more interesting dinners she’d been to between avoiding her ex-boyfriend and trying, simultaneously, to make light conversation with whoever poor soul who had decided against bringing a date to the evening-of-hell that would result from being around four couples. Jemma and Dan. David and Juliette. Jacques and Henriette. Isaac and Ellie. It could only potentially get worse – especially if Jemma endeavoured to fill her house to busting point or something.

With an audible groan, Alice pushed away from the wall again and trudged into the bathroom for a shower. If she was going to put up with the farcical night ahead then she was going to do so whilst looking as pristine as possible. At least she’d have that to console herself with if everything went pear-shaped.

Golden light was shining, cutting through the evening’s darkness which had blanketed itself gently over the landscape. Curtains were being drawn across the windows of the upper story of her friends’ farm house whilst the lamp lights lining the gravel path crackled into their brilliance. Alice stepped out from underneath the lolloping yew tree that had implanted itself in the bank by the river that ran through the grounds of the little estate that Jemma and Dan had gotten for themselves and slowly made her way up the path to the house. Already she could hear laughter inside and the neck of the bottle of wine was growing clammy in her little hands. However, before she could turn back and rethink or phone Jemma and tell her that something dire had come up the front door was thrown open and the redheaded woman darted out of the house, capturing Alice in a rib crunching embrace.

“You’re here, you’re here, you’re here!” She squealed excitedly, bouncing Alice up and down. “I’m so happy! Now everyone’s here. Come on, let’s go inside, it’s freezing!”

What had always been apparent was that Jemma and Dan were ready to have children. Their home was a testament to that fact. They were ready to make their own family to heal the wounds left behind by theirs. The décor was simple and homely, not overtly ostentatious like Alice’s apartment or at all like Riley’s in its simple but workable fashioning. It was a place where Alice could imagine children toddling around on unsteady legs with their parents hurrying around behind them. It was a place where anyone could fall asleep and wake up to find a fresh set of clothes and breakfast poked under their nose by the two people in the world that were unrivalled by, in Alice’s opinion, no one in terms of generosity. It was all there. It was perfect. For a moment, Alice felt a flash of envy wash over her but she soon threw that out of court – it was a pointless feeling. It was their happiness. It didn’t affect her own.

“Do you like the house?” Alice’s thoughts were interrupted by Dan who pealed her from his wife’s arms long enough to grasp a hug of his own.

“It’s wonderful,” Alice enthused honestly, lifting her eyes around again as though to reinforce her point. “Really lovely. You did a stellar job.”

“Stellar job on my wallet, too,” Dan chuckled, releasing his friend. “You’re welcome to stay anytime, too. Though, I wouldn’t in the next few months. Jem’s sister is coming to stay … another ruck with the hubby and this time it looks as though it’s over for good so…”

Alice nodded, glancing over at Jemma who had rushed off to go and talk to Juliette. Alice embraced Dan again and released him before allowing him to lead her into the conservatory which was connected to the living room. It was there that Alice first caught sight of the man who was the purported singleton – Ollie, if she supposed Jemma was telling the truth and not just attributing a random name to the poor soul who also must have shared her misery at attending such a function.

“Olls!” Dan called out brightly. “This is Allie-Alice. Ms. Rousseau meet Ollie Connolly. Enjoy because my better half has set you up for the evening. Another beer, mate? And love, you’ll want something nice and strong won’t you? I’ll get Jacques to make you a cocktail, eh? Right, better check on dinner. Please get along. Okay, going now.”

Then, like that, the other half of the meddling duo scarpered and Alice found herself alone with a man who she’d just been introduced to. Needless to say, she was feeling more than a little bit ridiculous. Nevertheless, she did remind herself that he was in the same boat as she was – dateless and surrounded by coupled head cases who were their mutual friends. Once Jacques handed over the cocktail and the beer – the former looking like a disgusting sugary drink that pretended to have something to do with fruits of the forest – silence could no longer be mulled over, especially not with the tyrannical laughter going on in the next room.

“So how do you know Jemma and Dan?” Alice said after a mouthful of the cocktail which was as disgusting and as sugary as first sight had promised. She managed to stave off wincing, however, and instead plastered a friendly smile onto her face. It was the least she could do, after all. He was doing her as much of a favour as she hoped she’d be able to do him.

You know that person that makes you feel like you have a secret between the two of you? Like no matter what you’re doing or where you are, you can tell them anything about yourself and they’ll just get it?

Oliver didn’t.

He had never gotten to that point with anyone, and certainly didn’t want to spend the evening with several seemingly happy couples. He wouldn’t be the only one going solo, but it just made it worse that the other one was a girl. Dan and his lady would undoubtedly shove him at the poor girl in question. At least, he mused reluctantly, she was a blonde. Probably completely lovely, as Dan claimed. Oliver couldn’t help but notice that Jemma was a bit too excited about his joining them as well. The last thing he needed was to be sat next to some perfectly perfect blonde who would just ignore him. Being an extra wheel was not one of his favorite things, but he owed Dan after a particularly bad evening of cards.

Unfortunately, that meant bribing Ariel into keeping an eye on Eric for the evening instead of going out and doing what he really wanted to do. At least now it was settled and he didn’t have to worry about his pup for the evening. Honestly, he didn’t see the point behind house-warming parties and the like, but there was no getting out of it.

He let out a heavy sigh before knocking and waiting for Dan to pull open the door and practically pull him inside. Jemma, bubbly as ever, pulled him into a one-armed hug as Isaac chuckled and offered a handshake in greeting.

“Glad you could make it.” Isaac offered.

“Thanks, mate. How’s Elle?” He asked, one hand running up and down Jemma’s back absently before she hurried off to answer the door.

“She’s good. Around here somewhere.” Isaac chuckled, glancing over his shoulder in search of her. Shrugging it off, he opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by Dan calling Oliver over.

Dan couldn’t seem to slow his speech, even in his introducing Oliver to the blonde he assumed was Miss Alice. She was as lovely as was promised, though Ollie kept that thought to himself, instead offering a nod in greeting along with a smile. Silence reigned for a few moments, until drinks were handed over and she spoke.

“Dan and I met through a cards night a while back. He’s one of the few people who can actually destroy me at cards.” Oliver laughed, lifting the bottle to his lips and taking a swig of it. “You know Jemma? She’s something, isn’t she?” Another chuckle escaped as he shook his head. “Pretty sure she nagged Dan into dragging me along tonight. I’m not quite sure we’ll be the ones enjoying the evening, but if Dan talks everyone into cards, you’ll have to partner me. Maybe I’ll get back at him, hmm?”

The maintenance of relationships both romantic and platonic had never been something Alice had been good at. While at Beauxbatons, she’d been better, most certainly, but that came with being with a particular group of people all day every day for most of the year. Once she’d gone to university, she’d gotten a bit worse, buried in her studies, and then once she’d started work months elapsed between visits to her friends. Between meetings recently, it had been nearer three. But, even worse still, she realised that had she been better at balancing, perhaps it would have been her and David’s wedding that they all lay in anticipation of, not David’s and Juliette’s. Nevertheless, she had long let David go but with crisp clarity she realised that her singularity and subsequent partnership with a complete stranger was of her own making, ultimately.

Setting down her cocktail, Alice replaced it with a beer which had been left on the side for the gentlemen to pick from. She unscrewed the cap and set it down next to the cocktail before bringing the mouth of the bottle to her lips. The cool, starchy taste of the beer washed down her throat and shooed away the sugar lingering there unpleasantly. Alice licked her lips and smiled a little as she drummed her fingers against the bottle of the beer. It was a slightly awkward scenario but it couldn’t have been any more bizarre than if she had properly preserved her relationships with the people she once enthusiastically called friends. She felt desperately out of place and so too, she suspected, did her new-found friend: Mr Connolly. Although, they weren’t really friends. In fact, they weren’t anything. They were just there – like furniture.

“Oh, Jemma… she’s great.” Alice enthused with an open smile as she brought the bottle back to her lips. “We were at school together, actually.”

The woman in question was buzzing around like a bee with her wings on fire. She was trying to do far too much at once but Dan had slunk off, unhelpfully, to finish off dinner. In amongst drinks and nibbles she was managing to hold a conversation with everyone she came across. Of course, when she reached Alice and Ollie, she exhaled and abandoned herself briefly in her friend’s arms before smiling and bobbing off again as though she’d not even paused to take a break. Alice shook her head with a smile and watched out of the corner of her eye as Jemma interacted with her husband, teasing him in great rebuttal to his own playful pokes and prods at her humour.

“Cards?” Alice inquired with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t know if I’m any good, really.” She admitted. “What is it? Poker? Regardless, I'd be happy to try."

“In, uh, University? Or before that?” Oliver questioned, wondering after if he should have recognized her from somewhere. She didn’t seem like anyone who would have been at Hogwarts with him, though frankly he hardly paid attention at the time. He had been caught up with last minute work and Ariel and generally avoiding class.

His fingers danced along the edge of the nearby tabletop, eyes darting briefly to watch before returning to the blonde as she spoke again. “No?” he chuckled, “Well I’m sure I can teach you.” His smile was a bit too smug, but Oliver couldn’t quite help it. Hadn’t he taught Ariel throughout school? And wasn’t Ari now rather good at cards? When he wasn’t playing Ollie, the man did all right for himself.

“Poker. Spades. Whatever Dan thinks he can beat me at.”

Oliver nearly wanted to hit himself upside the head. His ego only showed up at unhelpful moments like this one. He really didn’t have much of an ego on the whole, but he had both admitted to having lost to Dan, and was talking to a distractingly attractive woman, which didn’t help. This, Ollie decided immediately, was why he never kept women around. Sure, they would seem interested enough at first, but they never managed to settle on him. Or for him, for that matter.

What he really wanted to do was leave the party right quick, and spend the evening on his boat instead. That, Oliver mused, would be far more relaxing, and far less complicated or embarrassing.

As if the man could hear Ollie’s desire to escape, Isaac ambled over again, claiming a need for everyone to be seated so dinner could start. Although he managed to wait until his friend had gone off again – likely in search of David or Jacques – Oliver couldn’t hold back his resigned sigh. “Let’s go see where they’ve sat us,” He added in Alice’s direction, waving a hand towards the dining room.

“Beauxbatons,” Alice ventured in response after swallowing a mouthful of beer. “We were inseparable when we were younger but Dan and Jemma more so as I suppose you can well imagine.”

David was the person who had made Alice’s life bearable when it came to Daniel and Jemma’s angst and conflicting opinions of one another. It had been as clear as the sky on a cloudless night that the two had something different from the first day they all stepped foot in the palace of Beauxbatons. It would prove to take a long while, though, for the pair to realise it and in between that, Alice was caught in the crossfire as they danced around the subject, both parties unwilling to lose face to admit the truth. David had been a crutch and in their own way, he and Alice had found a medium and a place in each other where they could just be. But of course, that all fell apart – like all things that aren’t meant to be.

“You’re confident,” Alice intoned dryly, a smirk appearing on her lips. “Dan’s always got a good hand, you know. I think he hides his spare cards somewhere on Jemma. I do not think we are going to have much luck but I trust you. If we only win back our stakes, I think it is a success, hm?”

Soon enough though, dinner announced itself – or, rather, Isaac ferried them along – and Alice found herself stepping into this rustic yet no less homely portion of the house that had exposed bits of wall and this character that her own home lacked. If nothing else, the home that Daniel and Jemma had created was something that was to be envied. The table which she imagined was rather short normally as it was only the two of them, had been enlarged and a few more chairs had been duplicated so that they could all fit around the table and allow for Daniel to be at one end and Jemma the other. Everything was set up beautifully and Jacques was just putting his wand to the candles as Alice and Ollie entered, adding to the ambiance.

“Sit, sit!” Jemma exclaimed brightly before disappearing into the kitchen.

Alice shook her head and weaved around the table, avoiding an all too familiar gaze that she could feel on her person. When she looked up, however, she found a different pair and was grateful to find that Jacques had taken a seat opposite to her with Henriette on his right and Jemma on his left, putting Alice at Jemma’s left and Ollie on Alice’s. David, much to Alice’s relief, inserted him the other side of his fiancée who chose to sit with Henriette and that left Isaac and Ellie to sit one Alice and Ollie’s side of the table. It felt a bit like a Mexican stand off and it appeared as though Jacques could sense the tension so he, in his way, decided to try and break the ice by taking up conversation with Isaac while the girls talked amongst themselves. Alice, meanwhile, picked at the label of her beer bottle before shrugging off of her blazer, letting it drape on the back of her chair.

“Alice!”

The blond woman in question looked up to see her fussy redheaded friend dart forward with a tall glass of white wine which she used to replace the beer. After that, she returned to the kitchen with the bottle in hand and Alice pouted after her, looking up to find Henriette’s smirking gaze.

“You are French, Alice – you are practically required to adore wine.” She cooed playfully.

“Practically,” Alice shot back, lifting the wine to her lips. “And yet… still, not so much.”

Henriette responded with hearty laughter but thankfully no more was said as a long bowl of mussels was brought out and placed in the middle of the table to replace the flowers which Jemma eagerly lifted out of the way. With that came the bowls for each of them and thick loaves of bread. Wine was opened and poured with heavy hands and then, finally, Dan and Jemma sat themselves down and gestured for everyone to eat. Alice did so contentedly, letting Jacques worry after cutting the bread at their end of the table while she spooned out some mussels for herself. It wasn’t lost on her that it was quite a pricy dish but Dan and Jemma seemed not to mind and, anyway, it helped the wine go down a bit better so Alice wasn’t going to complain. Nevertheless, she hoped they didn’t expect this much from her if she ever bought a home – which was unlikely so, really, she had nothing to worry about.

“Should I not be?” Oliver returned, eyebrow lifted in question. He didn’t see anything wrong with feeling confident in certain areas provided one wasn’t overly confident all around. “We’ll just have to separate the pair of them, then. That, or I’ll just have to hide mine on you.”

It was rare, honestly, that he spoke without thinking. But he hadn’t quite listened to that sentence in his head before releasing it. Ollie nearly frowned, but was saved by Isaac lingering in wait until the more-or-less unlucky singles followed. Jemma, as expected, has stuffed Oliver next to Alice, which could undoubtedly only lead to more awkwardness. Gods, but if Ariel knew. The man would never let him live it down – especially after how often Oliver liked to claim he could do well around women. It was true, to some extent, that the French man could amuse a lady long enough to interest her, but he rarely could go beyond that.

Unfortunately, yet more alcohol was passed ‘round, immediately making Oliver reach instead for his water glass, holding a hand up when wine was about to be poured into his glass. Although he had no problem with drinking conversationally, Ollie had a feeling that if he started, they would attempt to keep him after it until he was quite beyond sane. Alcohol did that to people, after all. He had seen it plenty of times, in truth.

“You, too, Ollie?” Jemma questioned, making him look up in surprise. He, too, what? She clicked her tongue, gesturing to the wine.

“Ah, um, no.” He shook his head. “You know how I am about drink. You’re lucky Dan got a beer in my hands.”

“You poor, boring soul.” Jacques commented lightly, passing a large smile in Oliver’s direction.

Oliver rolled his eyes but grinned in return, lifting his water glass mockingly before taking a drink. It took only moments for conversation to strike up, passing both between couples as well as across the table. Ollie, however, kept quiet, instead focusing on the dinner and pretending like he didn’t want to initiate a discussion with the blonde sitting next to him. Finally, he couldn’t stand his silence any longer.

“Is it a safe assumption that you remained friends with Jemma and Dan when they were in University?” He asked vaguely hesitantly, knowing full well that the conversation could turn round on him and he would have to explain why he hadn’t gone to Uni himself. “You may well not have gone to the same one or anything.”

There was innocence in Alice still when it came to the finer points of flirtation and though she wasn’t entirely sure that Ollie meant anything untoward with his slip of the tongue, Alice couldn’t help but balk at his words, a look of offense and shock painting itself across her fair features. She licked her lips, her brows furrowing low over her cerulean gaze for what seemed like a long while before her expression eventually softened, albeit into one of slight distaste.

“If you don’t want your hands, you’re welcome to give it a go,” she quipped tartly before breezing by.

The dinner was bound to be a success with Dan cooking. Jemma had always been the one to provide the alcohol, somehow to placate them or make them stomach it a bit better and whilst the others had taken to it with enthusiasm, Jemma’s fervour for wine had always left a lot left to be desired for Alice who would have rather gone without. It seemed as though Ollie shared her sentiment and she couldn’t help but smile in the midst of buttering her side bread, sensing that Jemma wouldn’t let it go.

To her credit, Jemma managed to crack a smile that was, let’s face it, more of a wince than anything else and Alice had to prevent herself from letting the laughter break the stoicism on her face. For her trouble, she was smacked on the elbow by the redhead who continued her wince-smile as she topped up Alice’s glass. This time the girl did laugh, another scolding followed, and they all then elapsed into their own conversations, pairing off as the dinner roster had promise.

Looking up, Alice put down her glass. She nodded a little, swallowing the wine before reaching forward to pick out another handful of mussels from the bowl.

“Yes, definitely a safe bet,” Alice replied with a bright smile. “It’s been… well, a while.” She looked down for a moment as she snapped the lid off of the bottom of the shell. She then lifted her head to look back at Ollie. “I half wish I’d done what Jemma did but c’est la vie, I suppose. What do you do, then? Ah, career wise, that is. Not cards?”

He half wanted to comment on her reply as she flounced into the dining room, but kept his suggestion that she perhaps just couldn’t handle it to himself. He was not talking to his flatmate, but a girl he was meant to spend the evening with. They had other people around, sure, but he couldn’t exactly get away with making the girl angry.

Oliver shrugged off Jemma’s look, instead being sure he appeared to be paying attention to Alice’s reply. Nodding along, he was glad he could avoid the question of if he, in fact, had attended University. Any time someone asked, they tended to be judgmental when he admitted the truth. “No, it’s just the cards.” He replied seriously between bites of his food. He gave her a few moments to consider it before smiling a half-smile on one side of his face. “No, not really. I’m an author. I just do cards in my spare time. That and, y’know, sailing.” He shrugged. “Other than that, it’s just the writing and dealing with the best friend.”

“Your flatmate, Oliver?” Dan asked, leaning forward and catching the end of his reply.

“Indeed,” He nodded, fingers toying with his silverware. “It’s us two, again. Plus Eric, too. Still, Eric doesn’t have his own room so we’ve still got the spare.” He chuckled, shaking his head.

“I imagine he’d actually like his own room.” Dan returned with a grin.

“He prefers taking up the middle of the couch, actually. Unhelpful little thing.”

The conversation jumped about for a good while until everyone had more or less finished off their meals, at which point the majority of the table was well on their way to being drunk. Of course, being the enthusiastic and slightly insane (in the best way) woman she was, Jemma had to make things progressively worse. “Alright!” She burst out suddenly as she stood and made her way towards the kitchen. “We should play a game. A drinking game. Yes.” Oliver groaned audibly, but she ignored him. “C’mon, then. You lot put your plates away, and I’ll get out the good stuff.”

Genuine interest lit up Alice’s bright silvery gaze as Ollie spoke about his profession, albeit only briefly. She scoffed at his initial words, a smile curling her lips upwards. She laughed a little bit, unable to quite stop herself, and she shook her head softly, turning her eyes back to her plate where a steadily growing pile of mussel shells was being constructed. She had gotten her fill and was beginning, now, to wipe up the white wine flavoured sauce with the bread that she’d buttered. A slice of brie was her favourite indulgence when it came to sauces from seafood: that overtop of the bread and dipped in the sauce was her absolute idea of heaven when she could spend a little bit of money. That evening, however, she’d have to do without. It did make her twinge with a bit of sadness but company enough, she told herself, was better than a side of brie. Yes, that would be a lie enough to console herself.

“So, aside from cards,” Alice drawled with a giggle, “writing. That’s really cool. Are you- no, I guess you’re published – that’s a stupid question.” Alice rolled her eyes at herself and shook her head minutely before rolling her lips together, trying to pick her words a little bit more carefully instead of running her mouth off. “What’s your genre then – or do you write all over? I know this… oh, she’s really lovely. Emma Jacobs. She used to write mysteries and then she got remarried and her step-daughter was really into stuff more for her own age so Emma started to write for teenagers and … yeah. Is that, like, a thing? Can you dip and dive so easily or is it more… like, regimented? Sailing?” Alice grinned openly now. “Have you ever sailed the stretch between Marseille and Italy? It’s beautiful… my papa and I used to do it every summer.”

Dan’s interjection turned the conversation away from sailing before it could even really begin and Alice found herself taken up in conversation by Jacques who wanted to know all about how awful the new ambassador was – as though he sensed that something was ill within her. Alice took up that gauntlet greedily. The man was a snail. He could do nothing by himself. She truly did not understand why she had not just been given the job. The President had cited that she was too young and without suitable experience. At that, Jacques snorted, refilling her glass of wine as she spoke. Alice eyed it briefly with a little wariness but continued on, not settling fully again until she had gotten it all off of her shoulders. Jacques could only kiss her hand and offer his commiserations. Though, whether it was for work or what was to come, Alice would later wonder.

“Jem, how old are we – sixteen?” Alice protested lamely as Jemma rushed off in search of something good to drink and, no doubt, a dozen or so shot glasses.

“Is it too soon to start lying about my age?” Henriette quipped with a laugh, grasping hold of Alice’s hand. The blonde laughed despite herself and shook her head.

The party was guided into the living room by Jemma and Dan. Before Alice really knew what was occurring, she was sitting on the arm of one of the chairs next to Ollie while the others took up residence squeezed on the couch while Jemma sat on the floor and Dan took to the other arm chair. Alice set her wine glass down on the side table, rather glad to be rid of it despite Jacques’ insistence she take it with her. She then focused on smoothing out her dress, hoping against hope that it would not be the kind of game where Jemma would see to it to pick on people. As it was, it was one even worse:

“Poker!” She declared, sloppily beginning to shuffle a deck that had materialised in her hand.

Alice groaned aloud, ignoring the glare she got in response. She slid off her shoes, kicking them to the side. She knew that she would be in for a long evening now this started. When the whisky was slammed on the table, everyone shifted a little more uneasily. The wine had been free flowing but the whisky was a little more likely to make Apparating a no-go zone by the end of the night. Shot glasses were arranged and Alice shot a longing look in Ollie’s direction before reaching up and beginning to take the pins out of her hair. If she was going to get ridiculously smashed then she wasn’t going to do it worrying about what she looked like, she decided. Once her hair was released and was sent flowing down her back in its usual, springy golden waves she dropped the pins down with the wine and braced herself.

“One first shot so we’re all on the same page,” Dan insisted, leaning forward to fill each shot glass with some of the amber liquid.

“Must we…” Alice whined.

“Oh, come on Allie!” David chipped in, making Alice’s whole body seize up and her facial expression changed in a second, her expression hardening. Suddenly, the air felt quite tense and unpleasant and Jacques, ever one in tune to the finer points of women, picked up the shot glasses for himself and Henriette. David had the grace to acknowledge perhaps he had gotten involved where he wasn’t wanted but though he winced he did not break eye contact until his fiancée thrust the glass into his hand.

Alice went and retrieved hers and Ollie’s and resumed her spot on the arm of the chair before handing Ollie his glass. She took hers with relative ease despite her aversion to it. She then took the glasses back to the table and plucked the deck from Jemma’s hands. If Alice could do nothing else, her father and brothers had done well in teaching her how to shuffle a deck. After letting Jacques split it, she gave Jemma back the deck to toss them out and it took her a few goes but eventually Alice was able to take up some cards for her and Ollie to puzzle over.

“Vamos!” Jemma exclaimed brightly, hopping up to sit in Dan’s lap so she too could look at the cards.

Alice meanwhile, was caught between looking at the cards for the answer and Ollie. She could see the cogs turning but, nevertheless, she felt uneasy. She had a feeling, though, that she and him had a better chance of winning now that everyone else was drunk. They had a good motivation too, it seemed: they both didn’t want another shot.

Oliver couldn’t quite believe Alice’s reaction, smile stuck on his face as he listened, trying to find a place to interject his reply. Instead, she kept on, pulling a quiet chuckle from him that was covered by Oliver taking a drink from his glass. Soon enough, Alice had been distracted and his desire to return to their conversation was made essentially impossible. By the time they had made it into the living room, Ollie knew that bringing it up again would be both awkward and unhelpful. If she were really that interested, she could always ask after everyone else became insanely drunk. Oliver had no intention of following them along their path.

Then again, Jemma and Dan clearly had another idea. While Oliver could certainly handle poker, alcohol was not something he was sure he could deal with properly. He hadn’t really tried getting drunk, except in the privacy of his own flat, with Ariel there to ensure that nothing exceedingly stupid happened to his best friend. It surprised him, to some extent, when Alice perched herself on the arm of his chair but he offered a tight-lipped smile of solidarity.

She stiffened as David’s words and Oliver’s hand immediately reached for her arm, half in question and half to steady her on her mediocre seat. Realizing what he’d done, he looked down at the floor and let his hand fall.

When she returned, he scowled at the shot glass before knocking it back and refusing the cough that wanted to leave. Alice settled on the arm of the chair and Oliver unconsciously leaned towards her as she shuffled, silently impressed by her willingness to jump into the game even when she clearly seemed unimpressed by the idea. While he reluctantly admitted that he probably could shuffle far better than the blonde, he refused to say anything and get rid of the vaguely pleasant atmosphere that had come about.

Glancing down at the two cards they were given, Oliver showed them to Alice before returning them to his lap, crossing one leg over his knee. King of spades and Jack of clubs. At least they had two black cards, and high ones at that. If luck ended up on their side, they could avoid drinking.

“Wait!” Jacques cried. “What are the stakes?”

“Fake money.” Oliver offered sarcastically, lifting an eyebrow in challenge at the other man.

“Hardly.” Jemma scoffed. “A shot for each loss. Both people each time.”

“Ooh!” Henriette replied, bouncing a bit where she sat.

“Brilliant…” Ollie mumbled under his breath, glancing down at the cards again. No reason to let anyone think they had a good shot, after all.

The flop was laid out and Ollie could feel himself smirking internally. Poker fiend that he was, it didn’t show on his face. He half wanted to turn over their cards immediately, just to get to laugh at the reactions of those around them. Instead, he gestured for Alice to lean over so he could mutter in her ear, “I may not have to have you hide cards, after all.” A secret, knowing smile lit his face briefly before he crossed it out, glancing around at the others to see if he could read them.