Good morning beautiful mounds of paper work - how I've missed you!

Vaguely, Ariel was sure that there was a rule prohibiting smoking in one’s cubical but he professes internally that he did not see any anti/no-smoking signs on the way in that morning. He had, however, seen a Werewolf being struggled into the treatment centre for, well, treatment. The poor bloke looked like he’d been through hell. Ariel was feeling a little delicate but it was nothing a glass of Firewhisky and a cigarette couldn’t cure. It was a little on the early side for drinking though so he had to make do with a glass of orange juice he’d been given by some of the House Elves that were wandering around. He had never imagined the Ministry would need House Elves but apparently, according to Reg Heatherfield who had spent the better part of his youth trying to catch Ariel’s father, they worked in the cafeteria though no one was entirely sure where the cafeteria is. It was ironic really.

It was Reg who had lumped him with a case they’d all been interested in and some of the elder members of the Department, those who had been working since before the First Wizarding War, had noted that it was highly appropriate someone who shared blood with those who they were interested in, had the case. So Ariel had been dumped with twenty years or more in paper work along wish about a years’ worth that wasn’t actually based on his father but instead who they wanted to catch at the present moment in time - Ms. Naomi Greyback. It was as if Fenrir had been forgotten because he was old and Naomi snapped up because not only because she was vicious but because she had youth, agility and mental-instability on her side.

Ariel couldn’t think of anything better to do on a Monday morning; and of course, to top it all off, it was pissing down with rain outside. Hence the reason for the smoking. It calmed him. But also because he knew it irritated that pretty little brunette in the cubical directly left of his. To hear her huff and puff in frustration directed at him was music to the werewolf’s ears.

Leaning forward, Ariel took a last inhalation before stubbing out his cigarette in the ash tray he’d lined at the bottom with a little bit of water so they didn’t insist on staying smouldering when he was done. As much as he disliked the Ministry at times, he had no desire to burn the ruddy place down.

Pulling Naomi’s folders off of the desk and into his lap, Ariel kicked his feet up into the space the folders had occupied mere moments ago. He then leaned back into the chair and opened it up, red marker in hand, to circle or cross out any inconsistencies. He’d be thorough with this, then he’d decide whether there were secrets worth selling - and whether he actually had secrets worth selling. He needed to have a word with Barker, really, wherever that temperamental idiot was. As much as Ariel wanted to save his own neck, he didn’t exactly want Naomi killed. She was a royal pain in the ass but she was no threat to him or to their father’s pack. Until she was, he’d focus on that unfortunate incident with a Hippogriff and a load of gobby teenagers that knew less than they assumed they did. But as soon as she was a problem he’d do something. First though, he actually had to work out where she was. Not with Barker though, that was way too obvious.

Oh how I love Mondays, Ariel thought sourly.

Jack was being stupid.

But was she really? Talking with Amelia had brought some things up and Jack needed them resolved. In all honesty, it was not fair that so much had gone unresolved for so long and she worked with the fool for God's sake. He must have done it purposefully. No coworkers in the same division of the same department, went half a year without speaking. This was nonsense.

It was funny, sort of. How fearless Jack know felt her legs turn to jelly as she began walking towards the maze of cubicles. Her hands were clamming up a bit and of Jack was weak, and luckily she was not, she would have abandoned her path. This girl had faced murder and Death Eaters and poltergeists and werewolves and she shied at the prospect of the blonde boy.

She was deep in the cubicle forest. She was hardly ever in this area, preferring field work to clerical, which she bribed her interns to do. This could partly account for the absence, she supposed. But there had been meetings, lunches, staff birthday parties... Really, the more she thought about it, the more it seemed ridiculous, and well...

Not funny at all.

As she walked she found her fear turning into something else. Something a little more like herself. Was this anger? It was closer to anger than it was to fear now, but there was still a heft amount of fear. She swallowed and took the final steps, leaning against the end of the cubicle. She knocked on the wall and waited. She had no words.

The marker pen squealed as Ariel pulled it sharply across the page, illuminating some of the text that littered the surface in an uneven, mottled fashion. It was obvious by his posture that he already found the task he had been set with, devastatingly mundane. Reg would have hell to pay at the end of the day. Ariel was considering making the elder man pay for a round of drinks at the Leaky Cauldron and then dinner in Sparks or something. Ariel definitely fancied one of Khaat Lupin’s tiramisus. He would’ve considered going over there for lunch and taken the pretty little brunette with him to make up for how difficult he made her life at the Ministry. However, a quick glance in the direction of his paper work made him change his mind. Ariel screwed his face up in frustration and shook his head before sighing and dragging his pen across another passage, highlighting it for future reference.

As he ploughed through his work, Ariel had an opportunity to think. The Department was striving to lock up and/or neutralise all wanted werewolves. There were posters everywhere. Ariel himself had a few posters of friends and family plastered against the wall of his cubicle. They’d been captured before - all of them - long enough to take pictures of them, but then they escaped Ministry clutches. Under Zoe, they’d gotten better at what they were doing. The other day Ariel was sure he’d seen one of the females from Fenrir’s pack clutching her cub to her chest as the Werewolf Capture Unit struggled to get her contained. She later left, disgruntled, with her mate who had owled Ariel and demanded he negotiate her release. Ariel didn’t negotiate her release but he did release her, making sure he took the tags from her and her cub’s legs. She’d left with parting words, ones that had cut into him far deeper than he had first thought.

Remember where your loyalties lie and who your family are.

Ariel, admittedly, had nearly forgotten but he knew where his loyalty lied -- with his father. It was that loyalty that had made him act the way he did. He didn’t regret it of course but he was worried about the results of it. Zoe had been firm. She wouldn’t kill him as long as he played by the rules. He wasn’t going to test her on that.

A knock on the cubicle wall caused Ariel to look up. He turned his gaze on the source of the noise and found himself taken aback at the sight of Jack. “Hi...” He said slowly, wondering how much time had passed since their last meeting. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

He greeted her and stated the obvious. Yes, she called it the obvious, because she knew her mind had travelled to the long absence of the two companions more times than she would ever care to admit, to anyone. She had not even mentioned it to Amelia, who she had found had sort of ended up getting Jack to spill out some things she had never said, but needed to say. Perhaps that was what made her so brave today. That was why she was different.

"Hello," she said, almost brisk, as though she was seriously contemplating acting as though he were only a coworker and had only been that. Never a best friend, never some she trusted, never more than what she let anyone else become. But his following words would make that impossible. That and the fact that Jack simply could not ignore what he had meant.

She could, however, give herself an excuse. Ignoring his words, she pointed at the mounds of paperwork surroundig him. "Still in that trap. I'm pretty sure Zoe allows that much paperwork to see who finds their way around it. Then she starts paying attention to them." It was not meant as an insult, but she supposed she would be insulted by it. She pulled out a clipboard from her bag, pointing to it. "I get my interns to do that work. Right now I'm finding out who would want an intern to force through the torture of clerical work. You want in?"

Yes, she was going to ignore the obvious.

Ariel liked the little square of office space he’d been allocated upon his first day. Its perpetual untidiness reminded him of the apartment he shared with Ollie in Diagon Alley over the top of a second hand bookstore owned by the girl Ollie was dating. She’d offered to have him move in with her and Ariel had been dragged along so as to provide comic relief for the insufferably awkward couple. He loved Ollie to pieces but it was painful to watch him and Renée flirt hopelessly with each other as they tried to navigate around the kitchen and make spaghetti without killing themselves. Every evening was giving Ariel new reasons as to why he needed to be present in the flat. Without him, they would have burnt the whole building down already. He was now far too used to being sat on the couch, waiting for the inevitable sound of burning. He’d then save the offended food object, throw it away, instruct Ollie to do the washing up and go down the road for a take-away. That was what happened near enough every night and yet the pair still insisted on at least attempting to cook. Ariel hoped, for the cat’s sake, that they would give up soon enough or at least go and get lessons.

Ariel drank Jack in from where he was sat, staring without so much as a flush to his cheeks. His eyes merely bore into her body, taking in her stance, her clothing, the expression on her face. She was just as interesting as he remembered her, just as charmingly odd. Her red hair fizzled out around her head and she was dress surprisingly well yet still in her own kooky way. Ariel was reminded of why he liked her so much. In her oddness, she was a breath of fresh air and he adored the atmosphere she created around herself, whether she realised it or not. Ariel averted his eyes after a few moments and twirled in his chair back so he was facing the desk in order to shove the files back onto the tabletop. Ariel twirled the chair round again and rose from where he had sat down, his bones clicking and cracking in protest as he did so. He was still delicate from the full moon but he was slowly shrugging off its effects, glad of it too.

“Interns?” Ariel echoed as he straightened his robes. “Go on then, sign me up. I wouldn’t mind a band of loyal followers running around with quills in hand, ready to do my dirty work for me. Having said that though, if they did that then I might as well stay at home or just lounge in Sparks all day. Speaking of which,” Ariel looked at his watch, “It’s my lunch break soon. Fancy grabbing a bite to eat with me?”

He said to sign her up and that was enough for her to distract herself with writing his name upon her clipboard, enough to keep her from noticing the way he was watching her. She reminded herself He wouldn't have to look so long if he had visited once, or made eye contact, once, or bothered to find out what I had been up to for the past few months.

Oh boy, he would not get off easy.

She tried to keep herself from looking amused at his words, but she felt the corner of her lip twitch; gah! Her own face failed her. She cleared her throat and finished the last of his name, before writing a few notes under the intern colum of the paper- clerical. She did not know how often Ari, ehem, Ariel got out into the field, but she doubted he wanted an intern tripping after him.

He offered to accompany her to lunch. She glanced at the clipboard, then at the clock, then back at the clipboard. "Yeah, I suppose. Let me go get my coat." She turned and strode off, feeling a little satisfied- at the same time, feeling rotten. She should be happy to be treating him this way. But she just wanted some answers from him.

She grabbed her coat from her office and set down the clipboard. She grabbed her knapsack, yes the trusty one she had used in Hogwarts, and walked back out. She walked over to Ariel's cubicle, pulling and adjusting her hood.