Tea. The thudding of her heart could have completely drowned out the whistling of the tea-kettle, but it persisted. She withdrew from Dory, immediately missing the feeling of him against her. Biting her lip, she nodded wordlessly, her eyes moving to the discarded strawberry on the counter. She plucked it back up and bit into its flesh, a bit more roughly this time. Why on earth did she feel frustrated all of a sudden?

Swallowing, she finished the rest of the strawberry and walked out of the kitchen, plucking a hazelnut from the basket to bring it over to the fire. "I'd love some." She responded, throwing the hazelnuts into the fire to roast them. She bent down to test the cloth of her clothes by the fireplace. They were still fairly damp, which was to be expected. Trying to ignore the growing feeling of frustration in her mind, Mabel picked up her shoes and unlaced them further, placing them in front of the fireplace.

It was halfway through busying herself with the clothes that she realized she had wanted Dory to kiss her, and kiss her deeply. With no absolute idea of what to do with this new piece of information, Mabel returned to the couch, tucking herself into the corner of the plush cushions and curling her legs up to her chest.

---

  

---

Watching Maple walk away left Dory with the unmistakable feeling that he'd just committed a grave mistake. Maple was so new to this world of romance and was practically a newborn when it came to understanding intimacy. Ravaging her body against the kitchen counters (which crossed his mind at least three times in the span of their hug) simply wasn't an option. She first had to grow more confident and aware of her own sexuality.

He made quick work of their tea, fixing it to how he remembered Maple liking hers. Then, (after a rather stern talking to to his still rigid member) Dory arranged the strawberries and tea on the tray and returned to the parlor. Except, Dory nearly wished he hadn't for he was entirely unprepared for how beautiful she would look in the dim light from the fire.

"Let me know if you need anything else? I should have the fixings for most breakfast foods if you need something more than this." Dory rambled uselessly, handing her her tea and settling on the opposite end of the sofa. It took every ounce of his restraint not to eye where her shirt had ridden up, just as it'd been incredibly tempting to sit right next to her.

---

  

Reaching out for her tea, Mabel flushed, averting her gaze as she clutched it to her chest. The hot sides of the cup burned her fingers, a welcome sensation and somewhat grounding feeling for her to focus her frustration on, so much so that she grimaced as she tightened her grip. But she had to keep listening to what he was saying — breakfast foods. Yes, that sounded good. She could handle breakfast. It would give her something to focus on throughout the night. And then tomorrow night she'd return to the lake.

There was the logical planner part of her brain come home at last. Mabel scooted herself upwards, wiggling her toes as she raised the tea to her lips. "Breakfast sounds lovely," She returned with a smile, feeling the reservation slip back over her like a comforting blanket. "Do you have oranges?" She asked hopefully, realizing having some of her favorite fruit in the morning would be an even better way to perk up.

---

  

---

Having focused on getting comfortable himself, Dory missed the moment when her shirt pulled down enough to reveal more cleavage. Or had it always been that far down and he simply hadn't noticed? No, her breasts being so readily visible when he usually only saw her in hospital robes was something he would've taken immediate note of. Merlin, would it be terribly wrong of him not to alert her?

It would. Still, he remained silent and took a sip of his tea. Perhaps he ought to have slipped some whiskey into his, if only to help deal with the nerves.

"No oranges, unfortunately." He'd have them from now on though, especially if these late night visits were to continue. "I have cherries and raspberries. Also all of the fixings for oatmeal."

---

  

Ah — well, that was no matter. Perhaps she might be able to sneak out and grab some before Dory got up to make breakfast. She smiled to herself, realizing that he didn't know about her animagus abilities; not at least unless he checked the registry. And if he had, he hadn't mentioned any part of it to her. Perhaps he thought it would be too intruding a topic. Having had her laces undone by Dory just earlier in the evening, that would be highly unlikely. "I'd enjoy that," She replied softly, taking another sip of her tea before sending him a grateful smile over the rim of the cup. She had been foolish earlier, expecting such a gesture from Dory — he had remained in control all evening, despite his admission that he was aroused by the appearance of her — by her alone.

She hadn't the foggiest clue what the urges of men entailed, but she knew enough that he was likely exercising a great amount of control. For that, she was grateful. Mabel still felt the occasionally prickle of embarrassment at her state of undress, but perhaps it was the distinct knowledge that it would shock her muggle family all the way to their graves to know the position she was putting herself in that prevented her from adjusting herself more modestly. Either way, she felt content; the warm feeling she had experienced earlier that had pooled in her abdomen was gone, and in its place was a sort of content resignation.

Make no mistake, she still found her gaze hovering over his lips, and drawing to the corner of his mouth. Wanted to feel the sensation of being ardently kissed. But bless him, he was doing his best to retain control, and if she knew Dory and his gallant tendencies...perhaps this was a sort of personal challenge that she didn't wish to break for him. "Thank you for today, Dory." For everything - saving her life, and for taking her for a night-time broom ride. It was more liberating than she had thought it would be. And despite everything bad that happened, she was determined not to be fearful of brooms or of water.

---

  

---

"Of course," Dory returned with a small smile and extended a hand for her to hold if she so chose. That the hand could have also been misconstrued as an invitation to snuggle in closer was a fact he was adamantly ignoring. Maple had walked away from the kitchen, had placed an ocean's worth of distance between them. Dory certainly wasn't about to hope she'd close some of it.

Not at all.

He cleared his throat for the umpteenth time that evening. Despite having reached the climax of the night (or so he hoped) the tension between them still left a sizable lump in his throat. "I'm sorry for letting you fall. I should've had a better grip oj you."

---

  

Her smile warmed as she saw him extend a hand to her; an offering of peace perhaps? She had taken his hand earlier and all but given him permission to move forwards (at least in her mind), and he'd merely kissed the top of her head. So Mabel reached out, lacing her fingers in with his and squeezed as she let out a small laugh. "It's far from your fault, Dory," She replied, her tone serious despite the affection in her expression. "I pitched the broom and threw us out of balance. I should have been listening to your cues, and I got too bold."

---

  

---

"There's no harm in being bold." Courage would take her further than any reluctance might. Dory squeezed her hand and offered her a small, albeit somewhat tense smile. "I still should have caught you. I'm sorry. And please, tell me the cost of your skirts and I'll replace them."

---

  

Her smile widened at his encouragement. He was quite right; and it had always been her downfall. With her upbringing there was no wonder she had trouble with boldness; showing her true self had proven to her younger self that it was always dangerous, and that it would always merit punishment of the severest degree. But she knew with Dory, she would be safe. "You saved me, and that's what matters." She responded immediately, wanting to quash any sort of self-doubt that had caught onto.

At his insistence, she shook her head once more. "It was worth it for an adventure with you, Dory. I had expected to retire those skirts anyways." Not necessarily a lie, but they had been her oldest set of skirts. She would find a way to mend them or turn them into something else eventually.

---

  

---

"Worth it or not, I'm afraid I must insist," he pushed. Since she'd been wearing them that day, she obviously didn't intend to retire them immediately. Dory wouldn't feel comfortable with the situation until he knew it'd been properly remedied. "If you refuse, I'll commission a big, fluffy ball gown for you instead. Bustle and all." Dory was teasing her now, his raised eyebrow and smirk betraying him instantly.

---

  

---

beautiful set by lady

The mention of the overly decorated ball gown gave her pause, and Mabel stilled, her hand still entwined with his as she surveyed his expression in the flickering light of the room. There - a small smirk flitted across his lips and she knew it was an empty threat. Nonetheless, it was not one she would ever think to entertain, and so she tugged on his hand, her own blue eyes narrowing slightly. "Dorian Fisk —" It was the not the first time she'd employed his full name tonight. She could already envision the monstrosity that he would show up at her doorstep with."— if you ever think to follow through on this, I will personally hunt you down and make you pay." After a dramatic pause, her own giggle escaped her, betraying her seriousness quickly as a sharp blade.

---

  

---

An image of the dress had already seered itself into Dory's brain — something sunshine yellow with frills, lace and a comically large bustle. It would likely cost him more than he typically budgeted for gifts, but her vengeful reaction would be entirely worth the price. And since he'd already have the seamstress working with her measurements, he could also have the ruined skirt replaced. Even with her threats Dory already knew this would be something he sought out on his next day off.

"Well, Mabel Brighton, I sincerely hope you do." He continued teasing with a deepening smirk and slight roll of his eyes. Calling her Mabel didn't feel natural to him, but if she was going to insist on calling him Dorian then he would return the favor.

---

  

He never seemed to be the type to back down from anything; still, she was extremely aware that it was likely he wasn't kidding about something. She hoped it was more about replacing her skirt, than showing up with a horrendous ball gown. Only time would tell, but Mabel released his hand in truce and leaned back once more to take another sip of her tea. It warmed her, again in a different way than the whiskey or pepper up potion did. She was nearly dry, and quite comfortable on the couch sitting across from Dory.

"I don't think I've even ever had a ball gown like that," She mused, still only half-seriously. She'd refused to do the season and instead worked and would continue to work until she didn't want to anymore. "They always seemed so stifling to me. Some of them beautiful, but always unattainable."

---

  

---

He frowned a bit at the lost of her hand and subtly shifted closer so that it might be easier to do so again if she so chose. Dory would have invited her to lean against him if he thought it would end without advancing things further.

"You've never been to a ball?" Dory asked incredulously, replacing his frown with a look of amused confusion. Sure, she was a working woman with limited means, which meant she likely didn't have the support for a full season, but every woman ought to have attended a dance at least once in their lives. The champagne alone made it worth it. "Well now you're definitely getting a gown."

---

  

She had to laugh again at his incredulity, not sure whether she should be flattered or insulted that he thought she'd never been to a ball. "I have been," She clarified, looking down at her tea and giving her cup a little swirl so the tea sloshed around a bit. "Mostly for work." But she didn't like to stay long; some co workers were in attendance that she could have fun with, but it was often that she volunteered to be the one on call during the charity balls that the hospital held. Algae went to balls for the Chudley Canons, of course, and sometimes Mabel went along. But again, not for long.

She looked at Dory, calculating disclosing more. Trust was easy to give to him, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to see the look on his face when she told him how much balls reminded her of her childhood - the before times when she was made to dress up and stand still and behave and not make a sound else there would be the Devil's Hell to pay when they got home. No, he'd already given her that look once tonight. "They just are a bit too loud sometimes." There was a stab of guilt as she lied to him, and she took a sip of her tea again to swallow the guilt away. "But I've always heard wonderful things about the grand society balls."

---

  

---

"Work ones don't count," he insisted. Women at work events were rarely dressed far from their regular attire. Hell, most of them didn't even do their hair all fancily. "I mean a true ball. With the music and candles and the terrace to escape too when it all became too much. Dancing until your feet bled, filling out a dance card, that kind of event." Dory had only been to a few of them himself, but he rather enjoyed the dancing. (That and slipping away to a hidden alcove with his dance partner.)

He shifted towards her more obviously this time so that their knees brushed. "I can take you along with me sometime if you'd like. With Ross in office I can usually arrange invitations."

---