Doomsday (The Meeting)

Irene had always liked the Ministers Office. It was spacious with large windows to let unnatural light into the space, creating a strangely pleasant atmosphere. There were portraits on the walls, pictures on the shelves, and a potted plant sat in the corner. It was the kind of office whose decorations felt artificial and posed, left over from the rooms previous owners and not having a shred of sentimental value to its current occupant. Ana Levski occupied the large chair behind the desk, claiming the territory that didn't quite belong to her and holding it with a pleased authority.

She looked tired. The two women passed each other in the Ministry halls on a daily basis and over the past six months Irene had watched Ana's hair get steadily grayer, day after day. There were bags under her eyes and the eyes themselves looked exhausted and vaguely angry that she was being subjected to sit in yet another life-ruining meeting. Irene and Ana had never spoken socially but now they exchanged the traditional small talk, discussing the weather, spring flu in the ministry, and the construction happening just outside on the muggle streets.

There was a distinct gap in the conversation as they skirted around the elephant in the room. Irene hadn't mentioned their purpose in being there and Ana returned the favor, neither woman willing to move to that difficult subject until it became absolutely necessary. The civil words exchanged hid the anger and fear that soaked Irene head to foot. She had watched her colleagues get paired off one by one but somehow she had never truly registered that some day it would be her.

It was easy to forget that she was no longer married. The last name, the house, the ring, the second pillow - everything remained when her husband did not. Not once since losing Rufus did Irene consider that she was anything but Mrs. Irene Norwood. Burying him in the ground did not seem as final as signing divorce papers. She was his wife, he was her husband, and it didn't seem possibly that she was sitting here now, willingly waiting to become engaged.

The summoning letter was folded neatly in her purse, the creases becoming more and more pronounced every time she opened the paper to examine it for any changed. The letter had been read five, ten, twenty times over, always giving the same paralyzing news. 3 pm, Deputy Minister's Office, life as she knew it would cease to exist. Irene had taken to over-analyzing the situation as she considered every scenario that this meeting could possibly bring.

Worst case? He was a happy-go-lucky do-gooder who had nothing better to do with his life than buy her a white dress and start picking out baby names. Best case? He took one look at her and sprinted to his best friend with pleas to elope. That or he got hit by a bus.

Irene couldn't bring herself to make a scene. She valued her reputation, image, and job too much to flirt with the idea of Azkaban, even if she avoided it in the end. The Ravenclaw had never been a rebel, always content to watch other children break the rules and be waiting with band-aids when they returned home. She was by no means a goody-two-shoes herself but rather than getting her hands dirty, Irene had always preferred to sit back and watch madness unfold, enabling the participants in any way she could.

Now, Irene simply waiting for the revolution to break out. They had gone too far and someone was bound to snap sooner or later, even if it couldn't be her.

Irene watched the clock ticking forward on the wall, a moment of silence falling between discussion of pointless tidbits. It was time.

“A spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down!”

Gabby had always sworn to do the best for himself, and the best for society. He was a former Gryffindor, after all, so his motivations were always noble. He liked to consider himself rather selfless, even a martyr at times. He sought to leave the air behind him sweeter than it was before he blessed it with his presence. He liked to leave people off better and happier than he had found them. He sought to right the wrongs in the world. In the simplest and humblest of terms, Gabby was a saint.

So, why did the Ministry think he would go along with this marriage law? Sure, the woman would get a great deal out of it, as they would be gaining a ton of money, would be exposed to a rennaissance man, and were being handed off to the best lover in all of London. And society would be gaining little baby Gabby's, all of which would surely grow up to be the smartest, funniest, and most attractive citizens this city had ever been blessed with. So, he could see why the Ministry thought this would be a good idea. But they should have also known that anything that made him unhappy would make society unhappy, because Gabby did not like doing what he did not want to do. And he was not above taking it out on strangers.

And, as the saint he was, he did not want to do that to society. So why were they putting him in such a position?

"The medicine go down-wown."

Gabby had sworn an oath to remain a bachelor for as long as possible. To himself, of course. And now he was lawfully being forced to marry some poor woman who would surely be over the moon? He could not think of a single woman interesting enough to tempt him into annoying her every single day. He would coax Roxanne into marrying him, but she was still trying to trach down her husband to properly divorce him. He didn't get along with anyone else enough to even consider them as potential mates. And what woman who would like him would be interesting enough to not drive him towards death?

"The medicine go down."

He walked up to the office where he would surely be throwing a tantrum - something he was quite accostomed to doing in the Ministry - feeling confident in his abilities to reverse his luck. He was so confident, that the words of the muggle musical rang out down the halls, bright and clear and cheery as anything. He briefly wondered what might be in the Undersecretary's office of worth. He always loved testing his stealthy abilties, and he would love to steal a paperweight or two. He knocked twice, before throwing the door open.

"Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down."

No. Way. Irene Norwood. The tune immediately left his lips as he stared directly at the last woman he expected to see in the room. He slowly turned his head to look at Ana, before looking back at Irene. He sang again, his voice now dull and flat with surprise as he practically stated,

"in the most delightful way."

Irene's head snapped around as she heard movement by the door, all pretense of calm or collected gone as her heart squished unpleasantly in her chest. There was nothing about this planned union that she considered in any way binding or true - but that didn't stop her from having a deep invested intrest in whoever was about to walk through that -

No. No no no. Nope. No.

It wasn't possible. It just - no. Her match's song cut through the air, ending flatly, trailing off into normal speech. Irene swallowed numbly as she stared at the man who stood in the doorway. Her head whipped back to stare at Ana with an undeniable panic in her eyes as she waited for the punchline. That must be it, in Gabriel's elaborate plan to make her life a living hell this was his final blow, some sort of prank to beat all pranks to try and make her crazy.

If that was his plan it was working perfectly.

"Sit down Mr. Short, and we can get started." Ana suggested lightly, either oblivious to or ignoring Irene's expression of horror as she once again looked back and forth between the pair. Her normally placid face was far from blank as the realization that this may not be a trick began to settle in on her. Gabriel looked nearly as startled as she did, a fact that did not comfort Irene.

Her brain wasn't working properly. It skipped and crashed around looking for any explanation or (when there was none to be found) wrestled to come to terms with what exactly was happened. She had had a hard enough time getting dressed today to come being engaged to an innocent stranger but they had managed to pair her with one of her least favorite people on this planet. The idea of a Ministry-abiding-fool was looking quite appealing now that she was faced with her reality.

Gabriel Short looked a lot more intimidating without a desk to separate them.

Irene was going to be mad. So very mad. He wondered how he could somehow communicate to her that this was not his plan, his prank, his ploy. She would finally go ahead and castrate him if she suspected he had any involvement in this match. Of course he did not. Gabby was a bachelor.  Under the word bachelor in the dictionary, there was no other description, but "you should already know." Because he was the shining example of what a playboy bachelor was supposed to be. Marriage was the last thing to help his reputation.

Little Miss Thing Ana Levski called upon him to sit and he looked at her, trying to decide how contrary he wanted to be. "Is this a group marriage? Otherwise, there's going to be some disappointed parties." The joke was not going to land - he knew it. He was up against two women of business, two professional pant suits, and two clever minds capable of outwitting him at times. Yes, the women could attempt to outtalk him, but he was a man of action and he would surely begin to wage any wars that were started.

He moved into the room and sat in the chair, kicking his feet up on Levski's desk, giving Irene a look that clearly said See, it's not just you. He was equally disrespectful to all authority, not just to her. (Though he did have a special brand of torturing Irene Norwood.) He regarded Ana with a keen eye. "Sorry to disappoint, Levski. I know you are trying to conjure loveless marriages out of thin air but there are two complications to your plan. Norwood is madly in love with me as it is, and we're both emotionaly unavailable. She has her one distraction, and I have my hundreds."

Irene couldn't find even a dark humor in his jokes today, not when they directly applied to her. Over the years she had been graciously informed of her love for him many times but it had always rolled off her shoulders with the knowledge that at 4:00 she was able to pack her bags and head home to a place Gabriel couldn't touch. But now it her work problem was very, very personal. Uncomfortably so. Unavoidably so.

Irene stared as Gabriel threw his feet up on the desk and started to reach out a hand to stop him before remembering exactly whose office they were in and pulling it back. He looked at her and she looked back with a grimace. As he spoke she wasn't sure if he was making things better or worse. The shock hadn't quite worn off and Irene needed another moment or two to collect herself but the sound of Gabriel's voice was enough to make her squirm right now.

Norwood is madly in love with me as it is. Her hands laced together in her lap, squeezing slightly harder than was necessary as she swallowed back a retort. Instead she intently stared across at the documents on the office wall as Ana began to speak.

"Neither of you are engaged and that makes your distractions no interest of mine. We still need to discuss the timeline of your marriage and preform fertility tests. The more you cooperate the faster and less painful I can make this for everyone."

Irene couldn't hold in the scoff.

Gabby supposed Ana had missed something that he had not (it could not possibly be the other way around) and therefore he felt very much at ease. He was not going to be marrying Irene, of that he was certain. It actually worked out well this way. They would have to amend their own error and he and his Ministrial friend would be forced into a sort of hiatus while they waited for the paperwork haze to fade. It would save them from meeting their real match for a few weeks and, maybe if they were fortunate, the law would be suspended by then, or they could argue that they were much too close to the end of their prime to garner any respectable children. Of course, it would be a lie on his behalf but…. He had to do what he had to do.

He bet that he could get out of the whole marriage business anyway on charm alone. Levski looked like she needed a good shag. Or four. That could be arranged.

Arranged. Heh. He was clever.

Irene scoffed and Gabby could not help it – he immediately let out his own version of the noise, taking on her grouchy expression as his own. He was certain it would annoy her, but it would annoy Levski even more to have a thirty year old man acting the part of the mindless younger sibling. He looked over at Irene and gave her a curt little nod, as though stating his reason for the mimic : solidarity. They were standing together against injustice, against inhumane treatment, against the dystopia that was the British Ministry. It was sort of hot, he had to admit.

But enough of these games. His feet fell from their perch and he swung himself forward, flailing his arms comically. “Look, I’ll say it. This whole thing is ridiculous. Your paperwork is all bungled because Mrs Norwood here is married. I don’t mind polygamous marriages, but I specifically wrote I wanted two females, not two blokes. Not bagging on the lifestyle, but it’s not my preference, you know. You’ll have to sort this little mess, love.”

"Was."

The word was sharp and short, a sudden release of the tension that had been building from the moment Gabriel had opened the door. Irene finally turned to face her match and smiled hollowly. It was almost intended to be a look of understanding for his mistake - a slip up that she still encountered too often - but the emptiness of her gaze made it impossible to portray true sincerity. Irene was quick to forgive on this matter, after all she would rather be assumed to be married than for Rufus to be completely forgotten.

"I was married, Mr. Short. Unfortunately he passed away, leaving me just as subjected to these laws as you are."

Passed away. Such a polite way to refer to his murder. Of course there was some irony in the whole situation. The Ministry had killed her husband and now they wagged their finger that she was unmarried and had produced no children. Irene was as aware as ever of the building and organization she worked for. The Ministry of Magic had never been simple to understand but it was now impossible to deny the corruption that plagued their government. The laws, the persecution of half-breeds, it was amazing that such things could happen in this day in age.

How much longer could they really hold out? The whispers of discontent had turned into rising voices, building and building until they threatened to riot. There was only so much the public could take and Irene watched the events unfold with a vague interest. She was angry - so beyond angry that she had become passive. It was almost too easy to sit there and make small talk, to smile at the woman who would try and fill the hole Rufus had left behind with a stranger.

How she wished it had been a stranger.

Irene's eyes moved away from Gabriel to stare back towards Ana. If the older woman was flustered she didn't show it, simply returning to a memorized speech. "You'll have a month to get to know each other, though it appears you already do. At the end of the month if you are not married you will be sent to Azkaban. Additionally, you'll need to produce a child within the first year of marriage or face the same punishment. I'll need to preform fertility tests on the pair of you. Would you like to know the gender of your firstborn or prefer it be a surprise?"

Gabby disliked one thing in this world more than anything else - more than his father, or sobriety, or being outsmarted by a particular ginger. He could forgive and overcome other sins and other feelings but he would forever dislike the idea of a 'bad guy.' No matter how many Death Eaters he accidentally befriended or slept with, the dark side of things still made him grumble. If someone could cause harm, he wanted nothing to do with them. Sure, he was a thief, but he considered himself more a Robin Hood figure, far from a guy on this wrong side of fate.

But right now, as Irene Norwood cleared up so much for him... he was feeling like a bad guy. So many of their prior conversations, arguments, misunderstandings made so much more sense now. Somehow, he had missed that. Irene had been his case worker for so long now, and he had never made this connection. He felt stupid, sure, but he could easily deal with feeling like the fool - it was a role he was too used to for him to be ashamed of it.

But it had finally struck him how cruel he must have been to her all these years. Of course, he had not known just how horrible he had been, but he had said and done some things that were only worsened by the fact that her husband was dead. All of the flirting, all of the jokes - it must have stung, and he had done it all in ignorance. Never had Irene corrected him or pointed it out his stupidity or his cruelty - instead she had just born it all.

The shock was evident on his face as he returned his gaze. He could not apologize or look anything more than surprised that she had never said anything. She looked away once Ana began to speak, but he still stared at her. Who was this woman he was about to marry?

Gabby turned back and his glare fell more heavily on the woman before him. "You're all cockroaches. Perform your test - you'll find I'm the Mesopotamia of sperm farmland. Enjoy." He glanced over at Irene. "You can run this show - I'll stay out of your way."

After that, the meeting went smoothly. Ana did their tests in almost completely silence (both were proved to be sufficiently fertile) and after she efficiently excused the newly engaged pair. Irene had avoided Gabby's eyes throughout the entire meeting out of more disgust than shame and it was only when they had made their way out into the hallway and the door had swung closed behind him did she suddenly turn around to claim his attention.

"We will get married. Other than that I will not see you, I will not talk to you, and, God forbid, I will not live with you. The day this blows over we will get divorced but until then I will not be going to Azkaban for someone like you. Do you understand?"

The question was not really a question. Irene had no intention of negotiating her terms and this solid determination was evident in her gaze. The idea of marrying him alone was enough to make her sick to her stomach but unless Gabby had a secret fiancee hidden up his sleeve (something she highly doubted with all his talk about being the God-given gift to womankind) she had very little choice in the matter. Irene was certainly in no position to find a replacement. Out of her limited pool of friends everyone was either married or female and the idea of seeking someone out was almost as repulsive as the man before her. (It would certainly be a lot more effort).

Irene could feel herself crumbling, resigning to accept the man they had chosen for her. She had no energy to fight back against Ana, against the Ministry, against Gabby. She was hopelessly tired. Exhausted. On the verge of clapse. Irene had buried it beneath layers of good posture, proper grammar, and an artfully masking smile. If there was one thing she was determined of it was that no one would see her cry no matter how shattered she felt. Certainly not Ana Levski. And certainly not Gabriel Short.

Gabby was not going to be a better person than what his lazy, self-serving needs would allow him to be. He would definitely do a little to alleviate the horrible things he had done in assuming Irene to still be married, but his irritation with the Ministry was too great to keep himself above all of the snark and sass for too long. He understood - this was horrible for Irene. But she had wanted to get married at some point. Marriage had never been in Gabby's plans, and it was not fair that at the ripe age of thirty, everything had to change for him. If everyone thought they could f*ck up his plans and not hear his complaints, they were sorely mistaken.

Levski excused them and he could not even muster a dirty comment for her - it would take some semblance of respect or interest in her as a woman. Her involvement in his sentence turned him off of her permanently. He gave her a look that bored deep into her eyes. Irene had already strode out, and he looked at Levski. "When you hear about our double homicide, I hope to Merlin you take credit."

He turned on his heel and stepped into the hallway, reaching up to push his hair back. He had blinked and was suddenly being attacked, Norwood suddenly turning on him. It was so odd to see her anger so unrestrained. He had seen her irritated and angry, but she had always kept herself prim and professional. He had figured she would blow up on him one day - who would have thought she would have been demanding their marriage?

Of course, Gabby did not take well to being told by the Ministry he was going to be married. What would make it better hearing it from long-time adversary and newly-attained fiancee?

He tilted his head. "Makes it sort of difficult to make a baby if I can't see you, don't you think?" Gabby asked. "So what, we're doing the deed blindfolded? You know, I had you pegged as a kinky one. Trust me, I understand." He leaned forward, smiling in her face, as his eyelids twitched together in a wink.