Grimacing, Sara studied her reflected in the compact mirror she kept in her drawer for just such these occasions. She was not yet bruised by the stunning spell that had brushed off her cheek only an hour ago, but rather there was a patch of her skin that looked uneasily like it was contemplating the green-edged indigo smudge to come. At least it had missed her eye this time. The salve for that stung like fuck and made her look like she was weeping.
Touching the tender flesh gingerly she rummaged in her drawer one-handed for the pot, growling to herself when her hands found nothing but tissues and tobacco. And a galleon she had forgotten about. She pocketed that for later but it did nothing to help her face right now.
“Sandow!” She shouted across the office, startling an intern that she promptly ignored. “Have you been in my desk?“
“I need to do something about this,” she pointed at cheek, slamming the drawer shut in frustration and flinching when the noise somehow made her sore face hurt. The intern, wisely, took that as his cue to escape the room and Sara watched him go with suspicion. She dismissed it quickly though: he wouldn’t dare.
“I got caught in the face with a stunner and I don’t fancy spending the next week explaining myself,” leaning back in her seat she tilted her head towards the other woman, giving the impression of assessing the other woman even when her mind was firmly on herself. “Have you got anything I could use?”
“Suits me,” Sara said with a shrug of her shoulders. If she had paid attention in herbology she might have had an opinion to proffer but plants and such had been Atty’s domain – the fact she had gotten through the training on poisons was a miracle in itself, but thus far she had survived with only a few incidents of being violently sick after taking the wrong thing.
She trusted Sandow enough though.
“You might have to give me a hand, if I look in this mirror for much longer it’ll crack out of protest.”
“They’d be hard pressed not to,” Sara said with a grimace as she braced herself. Up close she was horribly reminded of quite how much younger the other woman was, but there was no use dwelling. She had had her days of being young and nimble, now she was old and prone to bruises but one day it would befall Sandow too.
Unusually, and bearing in mind that most of her other colleagues had been men with brains roughly the same size as their balls, she hoped Sandow made it that far.
“I had to hand him over to the constabulary in the end. Apparently it’s not for the likes of us to bother with.”
Which was typical. Some days Sara felt like her job was simply to mop up the streets.
Once upon a time Sara would have concurred; the lure of being an auror was certainly not the paperwork and drudgery portion of the life, but she had learnt to use that time wisely. Cuts and bruises were quicker to heal when one left them alone and didn’t add to them like being black and blue was all the rage.
“No one goes on sprees like they used to,” she said with a sardonic smile. “What does it say about us that we’re hoping someone goes rogue just so we can give chase?”
If Sandow had a temper then God knows what the rest of them had. A death wish, probably.
“You’re alright,” Sara said, patting the other woman’s arm in thanks. The salve was already making her eye feel better: she really ought to get Atty to make some more for her. She certainly wasn’t going to manage to do it herself.
“You’re no worse than the rest of us.” Which as probably damning with faint praise, but she had never claimed to be a fucking greeting card.