[OPEN] Starting with the Windows

Temptation. She was a fickle friend. The woman before him? Temptation incarnate. Yet, there was something of a gentleman in Peter Howard yet and though his heartbeat quickened and his mouth ran dry, he knew he couldn’t. He had Finley to think about.

Nevertheless, his hand found her hip and a smirk lifted his lips. He was a goner, he knew this. He was all in for whatever she had planned for that afternoon. But he couldn’t. It couldn’t be the afternoon. It couldn’t be ever, not really. But, call him weak, he wanted it.

“How about,” he hedged, his voice dropping lowly as though he was telling her some sort of secret. “I cook tonight and we talk or do research over that?”

Thank you, Merlin. Or God. Or whatever deity Angelique didn't believe in for looking out for her. She knew she didn't deserve it, but she had found someone who spoke her language.

"Sounds delicious," she readily agreed.

Angelique hadn't honestly expected to get even this far when she began her flirtation. Really, she'd just been taking the opportunity to stave off boredom by winding someone up. She couldn't deny that the fact that a man with a son and obvious community spirit had actually taken her up on it was something of a turn on.

"My name's Angelique," she told him, "but you may call me Ma'am."

Peter couldn't help the wicked smirk and the chuckle that escaped his mouth when she introduced herself finally. He wasn't about to adhere to that request, not quite ready to make a total fool of himself, but he did incline his head respectfully, softening the smirk into a pleased smile.

"Nice to meet you, love. I'm Peter."

Now the flirtation was over, he had no idea what he was supposed to do. He tried to think back to when he was first starting out with Sarah. The thought of her made his heart constrict painfully in his chest and he absent-mindedly reached up to fiddle with the ring that hung from a chain around his neck. Merlin, did he miss her.

It had been years, though.

It didn't make any of it hurt less but it had been years.

Maybe it was time to move on? Even just a little bit.

"When can I expect you over tonight?" He asked.

It was time.

He was so cheeky.  It made her want to tie him up right now and teach him how to call her the right name.  Patience had never been Angelique's strong point.

But no, she would bide her time.  Tonight would be soon enough.

"Okay, Peter," she said.

"How does six sound?"

(OOC: I took the liberty of moving the thread along a bit. I hope that's alright but I can edit if not! I wasn't sure if you would have wanted a new thread or not so this was a bit of a stab in the dark and my post would have been a bit naff if I hadn't moved it! Hope it's okay! )

Six o'clock. Finley would be in bed by then, certainly. He could fire up the new ovens in the pub kitchen and see if he could get some decent grub together. The cellars were more or less full now and he had a decent amount of wine down there. He could get all of that sorted and still finish the jobs of the day by six o'clock, couldn't he? Getting showered and dressed, however, might make him run it a bit fine. So maybe there would be a few issues. Peter was optimistic, though. He was nothing if not optimistic.

"Six sounds perfect," he nodded with a smile.


Five to six. Right. So, he had made it. The food was more or less ready. The wine was breathing. Candles. He'd forgotten candles.

Patting himself down for his wand, Peter fished it from his pocket and shook a flame into life at the end. He lit the candles on the table and made sure that they were glowing brightly before blowing out the flame.

Rubbing the nape of his neck nervously, Peter set down his wand and wandered back into the kitchen where dinner was just finishing itself off.

Three minutes to six.

It had occurred to him after dinner arrangements had been made that he had no idea what she liked to eat. He'd decided to go safe with a carbonara. That was more or less fool-proof, wasn't it?

Peter took the garlic bread out of the oven and set the tray on the stove top.

One minute to six.

He dug out the trays and whisked the bread into the bar where he'd set up the table earlier for them to sit at.

Six o'clock.

The clock on the wall above the fireplace chimed and Peter glanced over at the front door, wondering when she'd arrived and hoping to Merlin for the sake of his own nerves that she'd been serious and that she was punctual.

Angelique waited until three minutes past six before she knocked. It felt strange, knocking on the door of the Hog's Head, but it was officially closed, and probably the door was bolted from what she'd observed of Peter Howard. He was a charmingly security conscious individual.

Angelique had spent an inordinate amount of time choosing her clothes for this evening. She'd already decided Peter was going to be a challenge. His thoughts seemed to flow in the same general direction but on a slightly different wavelength than hers. It was more fun trying to second guess someone she could almost, but not quite, understand.

In the end, she'd settled on a wine coloured a-line dress with sheer black stockings and ankle boots. It was completely appropriate without being dowdy.

"You're so not ready to be dating," his reflection told him in the mirror as he paused to try and do something with his hair.

"Shut up," Peter replied in a sing song voice, smiling at his reflection as the hair settled and looked tidy for the first time in a long time.

"What about Sarah?" The reflection hissed.

Their gazes met and Peter stood up a little straighter, his hand coming up to handle the ring again. He shook his head and pushed off away from the mirror.

He didn't have to linger on the thought, though, because soon enough there came a knock on the door and Peter could forget his guilt for the rest of the evening.

The door was indeed bolted. He wasn't entirely sure he trusted the shadier characters Hogsmeade had to offer. Plus, the fittings and changes he'd made to the interior were only just settling in - like the mirror. The last thing he wanted was for them to come in and reduce it to the state he had found it in.

"Good evening," Peter greeted Angelique warmly when he got the door open. He held out his hand to help her in and once she was inside out of the chilly night air he shut the door.

"What would you like to drink, love?"

"Such the gentleman," Angelique commented as she accepted his hand.

"I'd like you to stop calling me love," she replied. "But I'm sure you can pick out something to drink by yourself. You are the chef, after all."

She took the opportunity to look around the interior of the Head. Peter hadn't taken her advice to not bother with renovations, then. She was tempted to ask about his plans in more detail, but she didn't want to get into another conversation about that right now.

"So, tell me about yourself," she suggested instead. "You said you have a son, but there's nobody else?"