December 21st 1889 - Locke's Flat

if this night don't turn into two
you look like I'm gonna wind up missin' you

Sage hadn't the foggiest what she was thinking right now. Going to meet up with the handsome auror who she'd already had her hands on, at his place of residence, was surely mad, right? Well, if she was going mad, she may as well have a good time anyway. Their brief letter exchange had been more amusing than anything else and it had put her in a position to find herself ready to throw responsibility to the wind, just this once. It was only tea after all. She really didn't know what to expect, but her mind was open.

Without anything that could be considered "fancy" in her wardrobe, Sage simply put on her best dress, a soft, worn, cotton number in a pretty teal. How did one dress for a rendezvous such as this anyway? She didn't want to look like she was trying too hard. Effortless but put-together. Hopefully it came off that way. Her hair was plaited and hanging over her shoulder, whisps of honey-blonde waves around her face that wouldn't quite stay in place. Other than that, she figured this was as good as it was going to get.

She had indeed owled ahead to let him know she was coming and then paced her room until the appointed time. This was silly. She was simply going to enjoy his company. It didn't have to be more complicated than that. As she watched the clock, she slipped into the fireplace in the sitting room as quickly as she could when nobody was around. If she thought about it much more, she might have backed out. On the other side she found herself stepping from the fireplace into a neat flat, immediately registering Mr. MacCoinnich's handsome face as soon as she brushed the soot from her skirts. "Well hello there," she greeted with a charming smile.

---

  

---

Inviting a pretty woman over was relatively on brand for Locklyn MacCoinnich even if he hadn't been doing so as much since... Cecilia. What hadn't been on brand was having a woman basically feel him up in his office. Normally he tried to keep his work-time flirting to a surface level. Not bring her home level. Well, not that he was complaining. Still, as much as they'd both seemed into their... whatever it was the other day in his office, Locklyn had been a bit surprised with Miss Whitby had actually accepted his invitation. It hadn't been exactly... proper. Then again, their meeting in his office hadn't been proper either so maybe he shouldn't have been so surprised.

Her owl had arrived a little bit ago and he'd sent his staff home for the evening, figuring she'd appreciate not having eyes everywhere watching. It was surprisingly easy to picture her in his home. Blonde hair loosened from it's styling were he could run his fingers through it. It was bit harder to imagine what she'd wear when he'd only ever seen her in her healer robes. She wasn't rich, he could tell that, so it wouldn't be silks she showed up in. Something more basic. She didn't strike him as one for bold patterns but maybe a jewel tone? Ohhh she would look stunning in a maroon.

It really wasn't all that long of a wait (even if it felt like it) to he heard the whish of the floo and a familiar voice called his name. "Miss Whitby, " he returned,  the words accompanied by a slow, leasure grin. Teal, not maroon. And it looked even better. And - not that he would admit it - it pleased him she matched his own navy suit. "You look stunning. That color suits you. Now I believe I'm owed an answer (unless you really are just going to be a tease?) and I owe you a cup of tea?" He gestured to the couches and side tables (where sat and ever warm charmed tea pot left by the maid before she left) to the side of the fireplace, hand lightly grazing her back in a directing touch.

  

---

pretties by bee!!

Sage pursed her lips at his flattery to smother a smile. She hated that she sort of liked it. Mr. MacCoinnich struck her as the sort of man who knew exactly how devilishly handsome he was, and he was not afraid to smile and charm his way into situations like this. She had always prided herself on being smarter than this, but for once, she wasn't going to worry about it.

So, "Thank you, it's my favorite." She returned his smile with one of her own and moved to where he indicated she could sit; she tried not to let that light touch at her back show too much in her reaction. "I think you should know it was not your story about becoming an auror that won me over, it was your self-awareness on being a manipulative ass." Sage smirked now, as she set herself comfortably on the sofa. She eyed him curiously, but didn't move for her tea yet. She was curious to see where he would seat himself.

"But I do suppose I owe you the story, if you like." Her own reasons for becoming a mediwitch were somewhat unplanned. "Truthfully it is not anything grand; I was already used to taking care of people, I'm good at it, and I'm good at potions." It had been one of her better classes, along with charms. "But I only finished through my OWLs, so mediwitch it was." It paid well enough, the hours were a little unpredictable, which she liked and she was never, ever bored. Sage didn't have any more selfless delusions of grandeur; she was good at it, so she might as well get paid for it.

---

  

---

"I've been told it isn't a great look to be a manipulative ass," he chuckled, following behind Sage to sit on the other side of the sofa, twisting to face her. A wand flick brought two freshly filled tea cups floating through the air. "Here. It's a cinnamon - I hope you like it but I can always find something else for you if you want. Twiggy can bring up a new pot. She's my house elf - I had the rest of the staff sent home. I didn't want them to make you feel uncomfortable." He shook his head and the grin crept back on his face as he turned back to the topic on hand, leaning forward, closer to her. "I'm not sure if I should be pleased or upset it wasn't my dislike of boring deskwork that attracted you to me then."

"I take it you have siblings then? Were you the eldest? Maybe it was something you were good at, but did you have a passion for it? I suppose you don't have a passion for your work. It is work after all." He stopped to sigh and roll his eyes. "I mean I told you my motivators. It clearly wasn't my dream." It was impressive that she had her O.W.L.s. It was more than a lot of working-class women ever got. He wondered if they scraped up the money for it or if she was on scholarship. Hogwarts wasn't cheap. "I have you pegged as a Hufflepuff. Am I right?"

  

---

pretties by bee!!

Mirroring his posture, Sage turned toward him as he sat next to her. He was nice to look at and she was still wondering just what he had in mind. She accepted the tea with a bit of surprise. He'd put a lot more thought into this than she would have expected. It was endearing, in a way. "Oh, thank you." She smiled, a little more genuinely, trying to keep the blush from her cheeks. It could have very well been a warning sign, if she were thinking in that frame of mind, that there was nobody else around, but Sage felt strangely at ease with Mr. MacCoinnich, plus she could take care of herself. "I'm sure it's lovely." Sage only typically had regular tea, often needed the boost to get through the day. Once in a great while she would have a coffee, but it was only out of desperation; it was so bitter, but it did the trick.

"Paperwork is the boring part of any job, I think." She agreed, taking a tentative sip of the tea. It had a different taste to it, but she would need to try more to form a definitive opinion. She was however, going to distinctly ignore the part about being attracted to him. "I do, I'm the second oldest of five sisters." It was a responsibility she shouldered willingly, but not as diligently as Tess. "And I do like it," she mused with a smile. "It keeps me busy, it's rarely boring and I meet a lot of people."

She sipped at her tea, chuckling to herself. "Yes, you're right." It was an easy guess, she had always been hardworking and unafraid to tackle life's difficulties."Gryffindor?" She countered, raising one eyebrow. Weren't all aurors Gryffindors after all? Only those bold fools would take on a job like that.

---

  

---

She leaned in, mirroring his position and he debated for a moment about reaching out and tucking the loose strands of her hair behind her ear but hesitated. She seemed far less decisive than she had in his office and he wasn't sure if the other day had been a fluke or if she was off-kilter being in his own personal space. "Welcome," he breathed, taking his own cup in hand and breathing the scent in. "It is my favorite in the winter. The warmth against the snow."

"You say that but I am fairly certain it might be my trainee's favorite part of the job with how much she nags me about it." Or that could be because he tended to pawn his off onto her but he'd leave that bit unsaid. She didn't seem like the type to approve of leaving others to do your own work. With a sigh he fell into the back of the sofa, sinking into the cushions. "That makes sense. I've three sisters and my older one is one of the bossiest people I know," his tone was light, teasing, a throwback to how their last meeting she'd spent most of telling him what to do. "I'm sure you do. But hopefully not too many are quite that hands-on, Miss Whitby."

His grin shifted to a full smile when Sage confirmed he'd guessed right. He'd thought she valued duty and she'd already claimed to enjoy taking care of people. As she shared her guess for his own house he chuckled. "Mmm... no. Ravenclaw actually. But a lot of people guess Gryffindor. It certainly surprised my family. They all thought I'd end up there."

  

---

pretties by bee!!

Having the tea in her hands was fortunate, if she didn't she wouldn't quite know what to do with them. Sage was to engrossed in listening to him talk, whether he was speaking of the tea or his family, she liked the way in which he said it. For all his bravado in his office, there seemed to be more to him than she would have guessed.

"Older sisters are all bossy," she agreed with a chuckle. "This is delicious." She added, indicating the tea. The more she had, the more she liked it. It will could use a little sugar, but for now it was fine.

Upon his admission to Ravenclaw, she raised her eyebrows. "Hmm, that might have been my last guess, if I'm being honest." She probably would have guessed Slytherin before that. "What is it you would have done, if you'd gotten more say in your career, then?" She was curious, and got more comfortable on the sofa, pulling her legs up beneath her and arranging her skirts accordingly. If they were going to get to know one another, he was going to get her full attention.

---

  

---

"I'm glad you like it!" Locke exclaimed, grinning broadly. It was a bit silly, wasn't it, that when he had been with so many others that he still felt a rush of joy when they liked what he had given them? What he had picked? "I'll have Twiggy pack you some to take home then. Maybe your sisters will like it too." And maybe that was too much but it was nice, having her here. Watching her feel comfortable enough to settle in in his space. The warmth he felt wasn't all from the tea.

"Ahh! You wound me, Miss Whitby. Surely you jest! Have you missed my obvious intelligence then? My cunning wit?" He leaned forwards then, slightly into her space, hand place over his heart his weight shifted and he threw himself backwards, onto the backrest, as if she had actually wounded him.

But then his face shifted. Not wholly serious, but a bit less joking than it had been a second ago. It felt silly to look someone like her in the eye and say he hadn't wanted to work. He knew most of the women he'd slept with weren't there because they loved him. They were there for his money. But it felt disrespectful to lie as well. "There wasn't really anything I wanted to do. After Hogwarts, my friend - Oz - and I travelled for a few years. When we came back, we goofed around a lot and played with spells. Worked on refining some of the ones we'd come up with in school. I liked that - the spell work. But according to my father, we never did anything serious enough to make something like that a career. And then... I did something he didn't like so here I am."

"And, honestly, after almost 10 years, I do like this. Not that I would admit that to my father." Locke tacked on with an eye roll.

  

---

pretties by bee!!

His exuberance was endearing and Sage had to chuckle at his exaggerated reactions. That he would pack up the tea to send home with her was unexpected and she thought it sweet of him to think to do that. "You are very witty," she agreed. It was nice to have the banter to fall back on in a moment like this. Getting to know someone could be awkward and sometimes full of lulls in the conversation, but he kept plowing on and she was just along for the ride.

Listening as he explained the answer to her question, Sage quieted a little, sipping at her tea. It was a strangely stark reminder of their wildly different lifestyles and though she hadn't been questioning herself about coming since she'd stepped out of the hearth, she was now. It begged the question; what exactly was she doing here? He'd had the luxury of not doing anything at all, or so it seemed until his father had stepped in. Sage didn't have that option, it wasn't even a remote possibility. They came from entirely different worlds it felt like. She'd known he was of a higher status than her, of course, but hadn't realized the discrepancy was quite so large.

He'd stopped though and she smiled softly at him. "Well, I'm glad it's working out then." It did seem to suit him, for all his bravado and if he had indeed been a Ravenclaw, then he was clearly suited to more aspects than she'd originally thought. "And you can call me Sage, if you like." It felt weirdly formal to keep using surnames and honorifics when it was just the two of them alone in his home.

---

  

---

"Thank you,  I take great pride in my charm I will have you know," Locke bounced back, grinning whole he fished for something to say to fix how he had messed up. Because he clearly had. She's changed. Gone quite and he wasn't quiet sure how to backtrack. He was used to women who didn't care about the wealth gap. Were used to it in their relationships. This was his first time with someone like her. Who - assumedly - didn't pursue casual relationship. (But then again who knew? Maybe she had before? She'd definitely been pushy with her flirting in his office. But it could have been someone more of her own class he supposed.) But then she offered an out and he latched on, happy for the lifeline.

"If that's the case then you can call me Locke then - no one actually calls me Locklyn except for my parents. Well and my sisters when they are trying to nag me." 

He breathed in deeply through his nose, eyes pinned on her. "Sage," he tested, feeling how he name felt in his mouth, voice barely above an whisper. She'd introduced herself when they first met a few days prior in his office but at that point she'd just been some cute healer he would only see in passing. And then she'd only ever signed her letters S. not her full name. He'd never actually had a chance to use it. "Your name is so pretty. So fitting." He thought it was quite obvious that he didn't just mean her name.

  

---

pretties by bee!!

"I'll keep that in mind, if you vex me." Sage chuckled over her teacup. She was still trying to get her feet under her, to figure out what she was doing here, but she was enjoying herself, despite the uncertainty. Mostly she didn't know what Locke wanted from her. Sage had thoroughly enjoyed their very forward flirting in his office, and had been intrigued enough to show up, but truthfully she hadn't done this before and while she was curious, she was also cautious.

She flushed at the compliment, cheeks rosy and warm. He had been quick to compliment her on more than one occasion now and she'd be lying if she said she didn't like it. "Oh, thank you." She had always liked it, liked the plant for which she was named, and it she felt as though it did fit her. "I like Locklyn though," She admitted. It had a nice ring to it, strong and sturdy, like the hero of a romance novel. Which also seemed to fit his personality, the more she thought about it. Sage refused to be the damsel in distress, no matter how charming he was. She was going to be smart and reasonable about this, whatever it was. And straightforward, "Do you do this often, Locke, invite young ladies over to your flat for some tea in private?" She was curious and Sage had never been one to shy away from a necessary conversation. Plus she was more curious how he would justify the invite.

---

  

---

"Vex you? " Locke parroted, grinning as he tried to imagine what kind of terrible he might get in with her. If he had his way he would get into plenty. Like right now when his words turned her cheeks that pretty shade of blush. Would he vex her if he reached out and tugged on the loose strands of her hair? Or snakes his hands behind her neck and tug her closer? As much as he liked talking to her... he also wanted to pick up where they'd cut off in his office now that she'd put the idea in his head. "I think we might be able to make an exception for you, Sage, if you want to call me Locklyn. I might just like how it sounds when you say it."

Her next question caused him to hesitate, a conflicted rush of thoughts pooling in his head. Was she just wanting him to say the obvious that they'd been dancing around the past month? Surely she wasn't just oblivious and thought their interaction in his office was appropriate? She'd played the push-and-pull game just as much as he had that day. And while their letters hadn't been as heated, he still thought they'd been on the same page. Did she just want him to say it aloud to confirm they were on the same page? Or... was she getting impatient and this was her way of telling him she hadn't come for just tea and conversation? Which he supposed he could understand when he'd spent the whole time since she'd shown up in his fireplace trying to play nice when a part of him had wanted to skip straight to the physical. Maybe that was it then. She'd seemed to quite enjoy when he was being forwards in his office. Perhaps that was what she wanted now.

"Mmmm," he hummed, leaning towards her again - though this time he reached a hand out to tug along the edges of her skirt instead of backing off - blue eyes turned directly towards her own. "I have. Though when I do, sometimes I offer tea, sometimes I'm a bit more... direct with my invitation. You seemed like someone who might appreciate the added... intimacy."

  

---

pretties by bee!!

Sage felt a flutter in her chest when he said she could call him by his full name. If nobody else really called him that, it felt like something personal. That was of course until he confirmed that she wasn't the first one he'd lured here under these pretenses. It didn't bother her as much as she thought it would. Sage had known what she thought she was getting herself into. That was why she'd come after all.

He was leaning in, fingers along the hems of her skirts and she felt that flutter again; anticipation and maybe a little bit of longing. An echo of their teasing the other day. Maybe she ought to feel a something more akin to worry or apprehension, but she didn't.

She leaned toward him, careful of her teacup, lowering her voice, "Does it make you think any less of me if that doesn't bother me?" She meant it, but she did have a little bit of pride here.

---

  

---

He tugged playfully on the edges of her skirts and she didn't flee or even startle, instead she leaned into him, her warmth seeping into his skin and it was all the invitation he needed. Emboldened, his hands moved from the edges of her skirts towards her legs and traveled upwards from her knees to up along her thighs. His touch was light, skating - for now at least, staying annoyingly above the fabric - with just enough pressure to be felt through the layers. It wouldn't do to plunge too far in too fast and risk scaring her away. No. He could happily take his time. It would be far more satisfying for them both in the long run. When his hands reached the crest of her hips, he stopped, hovering a hair's width away from her body. Close enough to feel the heat but not the pressure.

"Not at all," Locke offered, one hand lifting now to tug the teacup from her hands. It might have been his favorite - and he was glad she seemed to like it - but right now he far preferred the idea of her hands on him as opposed to on a cup. "I'm glad it doesn't bother you," he murmured, guiding the cup to the side table behind her before returning his hand to her hips where his other had remained, hovering, but this time committing to the action, both his hands pressing into the soft skin. But his eyes were still trained on her, meeting her gaze. "But right now you, Sage, have all of my attention." With that declaration, he tugged on her hips, wanting her closer.

  

---

pretties by bee!!

Sage was surreptitiously still, eyes fixed on him as he leaned in closer and took the teacup from her. She could feel the warmth of his hands even through her skirts and she desperately wanted to know what they would feel like on her skin. This wasn't Sage's first sort of encounter like this, but this already felt different. Those had been few and far between, just a one-night tryst to burn off some energy. Her heart hadn't been aflutter, the heat along her skin like electricity. Nobody had tried to seduce her with tea and familiarizing conversation first. It made it strangely more intimate.

He tugged her closer and Sage accommodated easily enough, their position on the sofa not conducive to getting much closer without awkward angles though. She shifted her weight, pulling her skirts out of the way as she straddled his lap, legs pressed tight against his. Her hands landed on his chest, fingertips brushing against the little bit of skin at the top loose buttons of his shirt. She kept her gaze on his, trying to gauge his reaction. Sage wasn't shy obviously, but she was a little hesitant and would much prefer if he took the lead.

---

  

---

Mmmm maybe he had underestimated just how much experience she had. The way she'd straddled his lap - her hips brushing cross his own with a friction that alone made him want to moan - with just his own tugging for prompting didn't seem like something someone who was trying this for the first time. But if it meant she was a bit more bold… he really had no complaints. None at all, Locke thought as Sage's fingers came to rest on his sternum, leaning into the light pressure.

Finally reassured they were on the same page, Locke lifted his hands from her hips to tug on her hands, guiding them downwards ever so slightly until they caught on the first buttons of his shirt. (The one easily accessible as he tossed his embroidered waistcoat over the edge of the couch long before she'd arrived.) At the same time, Lockyn leaned forwards, bending his head down so that his lips met the exposed skin of her neck, tracing kisses up until he met her jawline.

  

---

pretties by bee!!