Heist is Such an Ugly Word

Claire sighed as the two occupants of Layabout Lane scurried away from her like rats running from water. Usually, an unsolved mystery would drive the logical, problem-solver of a woman up the wall. Rarely did she let people escape from her grasp when there was something so obviously strained in their behavior, but she made an exception for these two - they simply seemed to be odd by nature, and she supposed she should just go ahead and accept it. With a sigh, Claire turned back to speak with the secretary. She was sure she would probably never untangle the oddity that was the pairing of Maximus Morrison and Jack Dyllan.


Jack was already in the lift by the time Max fully caught up to her - she had briefly forgotten that she had stuck him with the box of illegal puppies, and she almost felt sorry for making him run, before she remembered that she never felt sorry for anyone and why should she suddenly start for Max Morrison? They were just roommates, right? Practically strangers who just happened to live together. Almost like neighbors.

She leaned forward and punched the button, a little harder than she had originally intended. Whoops.

He spoke and she nodded a curt nod. "Yes." She was not certain why she was so cranky right now, but she knew she was and there was no stopping it, so why fight it. "You'll be glad to know that there's been no changes to your file. You're still set to marry Miss Bishop." Or Miss Blonde-ship as Sunny had begun calling her. It wasn't very clever, but it made Jack feel smug nonetheless. Jack, of course, had no idea that Claire's own file was frozen due to her dealings with the attempting to fix the situation, but she had not wanted to look. She did not need another irritating reminder.

"Oh."

The lift had begun dropping towards the Earth in an all-too-familiar way. How many times had he ridden in this very spot? Up and down, to and from work, to meetings and to lunch, in sickness and in health. For every mark, turn, and feeling of his long career in Muggle Relations there was probably a lift ride to represent it. But in all of the hundreds of times he had heard the golden gated doors ding, no trip could compare to what he was about to do.

"Actually Claire and I were just talking about that."

It really was quite stupid if you thought too much. He hadn't known Jack for long and the majority of their time together had been spent on less than friendly terms. She had destroyed all hopes he had for a calm home experience, bringing in everything from boggarts to children. Max's feelings, possesions, and preconceptions were violated on an almost daily basis, pushing the boring man closer and closer to insanity. But he felt with absolue certainty that world would stop turning if he and Jack Dyllan did not remain living at Layabout Lane.

"Neither of us particularly want to, um -" Max scratched his head as the nerves began to kick in. What was he, thirteen? Butterflies were doing a tapdance in his stomach and Max was not sure if was because of the actual question he wanted to ask or the very real possibility of being punched afterwards. "- Well what I'm trying to say is she suggested I find someone else just to be safe, you know? Because even if she isn't qualified as a citizen I might get reassigned and it could end up even worse." Max's words were coming fast now, tumbling over each over as he struggled to get to the point that scared him so desperately.

"And it would just make sense because we live in the same house already and Sunny wouldn't have to move and it really wouldn't be a big deal, I promise." He was almost stuttering, bouncing around the question without ever spitting it out. Max took a final deep breath and finally voiced the question that had been dancing in his head since Claire's first visit. "Would you, uh, marry me?" He swallowed, closing his eyes and bracing for some sort of physical harm to befall him. As soon as it was out he knew he should have just asked Gabby.

Jack wanted to scoff. So that's what they were talking about. Hadn't talking back home been enough talking about? How much could two people talk about something like this, unless they really wanted too talk about it. They must really enjoy talking about it because it seems every time I see the two of them they are taaalking about it. She pulled out her own file and began looking through it, trying to find her second choice so she could begin incessantly talking about how the two of them were going to be wed. Give me something to talk about.

Max was talking but Jack had frozen. She had opened the file to simply look for her second pairing, but her eyes had fallen on something else. In the bottom corner of her file were the results of the fertility test. She had not been delivered the news in person because she had been busy throwing a tantrum of sorts. The whole test had slipped her mind, and she had never had much reason to consider it either. She had no need for her own kids and the thought of being out of action for nine months was ridiculous.

But now as she stared the hard truth, the truth that she had one in a million chance to have children, she could not help but think that maybe she would have wanted kids if she had ever considered it.

Her soul was plummeting, so true to Jack fashion, she swallowed it down, bringing her eyes up to meet Max's eyes, only to find that he was determinedly not meeting her gaze. For a moment, she somehow thought he knew her newest secret, as the thought was pervasive and not allowing itself out of her mind, before she realized there was no way that was possible and that he was still talking about marriage.

And that's when it came out. The question Jack had never expected and yet the question she might have considered once or twice - you know, from a practical standpoint. She openly stared at Max for a moment or two before there was a ding and the lifts opened. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a small crowd of people beginning to bustle towards the lift. Her Quidditch reflexes kicked in and she immediately hit the 'doors close' button, followed with a button far from the Atrium. She heard a couple of disgruntled shouts and a few groans as the doors shut out the crowd and the lift began to move again.

She was still looking intently at Max. Finally, words came out.

"I'd be a horrible wife."

It was true - or at least, it was something she had come to believe. Everyone considered themselves and marriage when they got to her age, but it had not been until the marriage law that she had actually begun to consider it, and consider how she would do. She had felt love before, and she knew she did not do it with a partial heart, but that it filled her being and she did everything she could for the sake of the other.

But she was also... Jack Dyllan. And how could anyone be happy with her track record?

She shook her head. "I mean, I really don't want things to change, and if it means this is what we need to do to keep it like that... But I don't want to do that to you. Max, I... I lead the Order of the Phoenix. I just sold Weasleys so I could become an Unspeakable. I have a meeting with a murderous werewolf tomorrow. I've done really terrible things, and I have a lot of guilt and shame in my past, and my past is anything but dead. It's very alive and very present. And, according to this file.." She paused, looking down at it. "I can't even have a kid." She stared down at the file. She had said it. It was truth. She looked up at Max. "I'm just sort of a walking risk."

There was a long silence and after a moment Max dared to open his eyes, realizing that no blow was coming. Instead they stared at each other, both assessing the other in a way that was particularly confusing for Max. He waited with bated breath and when Jack finally opened her mouth to speak it was the last response he had expected. I'd be a horrible wife.

Max's butterflies settled slightly that he had not received a flat rejection. A horrible wife? No, as strange as his life had become since he had moved to Layabout he had never considered Jack a bad (much less horrible) flatmate. Her habits were odd and as much as the Dyllan's had changed his own, it was never in a bad way. Gabby was right - since Max had gone domestic he had never seen so much adventure in his entire life. How could it hurt to just push the domesticity further and marry?

Jack continued and far from being discouraged, Max's resolve only increased. Order of the Phoenix? At least it wasn't the Death Eaters. Being an Unspeakable? They could carpool to work. Murderous werewolves? His best friend was one and he slept in the room next to another. No child? They could adopt. A terrible past? He'd seen it. More importantly, he'd promised to protect her from it and Maximus Morrison never went back on his word.

"I don't care." Max shrugged and offered her the warmest smile he could manage in an attempt to soothe the afflictions she had just described. "None of that matters. I-I want to marry you. Maybe I'm just stupid but I'm not scared of werewolves or you bringing home dangerous job. We've lived together awhile, Jack. I know what I'm getting myself into."

Max was a fairly sensible man. He was known to be a bit goofy on occasion, but she could always expect him to be fairly reasonable and wise. Claire Bishop was the blonde wise choice in this. Not just for him, but for everyone. Claire Bishops were easy to handle in comparison to her. They were predictable and feminine and smart. Jack did have her assets, she supposed, but she also knew that she had a lot of baggage. If she struggled with carrying it all, who else would be able to shoulder the burden, and do it happily too?

At first, it would suck. Royally. Max would have to move out and she would keep Charlie and Sunny and they would do what they could to move on, but the home would feel empty. Or, possibly worse, some strange woman would become their new flatmate. Jack would have to learn another way of cooking eggs, their laundry would double (women typically liked clothes), Sunny would annoy another woman, and Jack would... do her thing, she guessed. She wouldn't feel like Layabout Lane really belonged to her anymore, but she would manage. Didn't she always?

Some part of her though dared to hope that things would not change. That there would be some way for nothing to change that would not have any true consequences. Somehow, they would wake up everyday and eat breakfast, before dividing up the last of the tasks to be done, and everyone would reconvene for dinner, and they could talk about their day, and she would overthrow the tyrants in the Ministry, and they could go on being a family, and no one would ever be lonely.

She wouldn't even be upset when he agreed with her.

But he didn't. Max, who went along with everything she said, was actually arguing. Not much, but... it was a convincing argument nonetheless.

Jack didn't say anything. She just reached forward and pushed the button for the atrium, before she tucked her file under her arm and stared at the doors of the lift, her heart pounding loudly; and yet, it didn't seem to be pounding because of the illegal activity that had just occurred minutes before. Her heart was beating for an entirely new reason, but she was not sure she knew what she really could say.

Instead, she reached her hand out and briefly grabbed Max's hand. They were in this together then. Whatever together meant. Her hand felt small and cold inside of his, but she also knew it was probably the best place for it. The lift dinged and Jack glanced up at Max. The smallest smile played on her lips and she said, "Your funeral." Then, a truer smile followed and she let out a laugh, whether it was out of jest or relief she wasn't sure. She squeezed his hand tightly and released it altogether as the lifts began to open. "Let's get out of here."

Somehow, she was feeling much less cranky.

((KILLED MYSELF WITH A GAMBLER REFERENCE))