September 21st, 1890 — London

Fallon would be the first to admit inviting a man over to her flat while alone was a risk. It was why she hadn't invited JP over sooner, and why Atticus only visited when Malou was present too. If she were caught (which, now that her flat was no longer being monitored 24/7 was a less likely possibility) it wouldn't be her private and professional reputation ruined but Malou's as well. Ruining her life was manageable, considering she could always find work utilizing one of her skills somehow. Malou didn't have that privilege, though, not with the life she came from.

Despite her fears, Fallon had little regrets about extending the invitation to Lachlan. There was little more they could potentially do in her home than they had the possibility of in the cave. And, well, that week hadn't ruined her or Malou. He was safe in a way the rest of the world was not.

She scribbled a quick note to him advising on how to access her floo and set about readying their drinks and snacks. Thankfully, Malou had made an extra batch of cookies from the ones she had delivered to Jesse. (Which, was this something she was going to have to share with him? Would he be cross to learn she was still friendly and spending time alone with the man she was alone with for the week of hell?) The flat was already spotless aside from her discarded coffee mug from earlier, warm too. Without Malou around to suffer Fallon had little qualms against casting warming charms throughout the flat.

Once the coffee table was situated, Fallon curled up in her favorite spot on the sofa and waited for Lach.

  

Fallon had left the bar the night before wanting to avoid any further dark thoughts, and yet she'd invited him to her home the next night. He couldn't argue; he'd been unable to get much sleep during the late hours of the evening, anyways, and usually only fell asleep once his body could no longer bear stay awake. He promised himself that he wouldn't do or say anything to bring her down. They were there to share company, to share comfort; he told himself that, but even he couldn't help but worry what that would entail. He hadn't worried about cuddling up to her in the arctic, but back in Britain? Even inside a private house it felt like all eyes were on them. Maybe she simply wanted to sit across the room from him and drink tea. Maybe he was overthinking things.

He popped through the fireplace once the sun had set in the sky and he assumed most people would be in bed. He knew it was silly to be worried about being caught entering a private fireplace, and yet he still didn't want anyone around them to hear his voice or even his footsteps.

He entered the room where she said she'd be waiting, and there she was—curled up on the sofa, blankets nearby, and looking better than him. He had dark circles under his eyes from last night's lack of proper sleep, and is hair rested in tangled waves below his ears. He'd bathed and put on fresh clothes, but that was the best he could do. There was no hiding his struggle.

"I didn't think London flats were capable of looking homey," he said in a low voice from across the room. "You've managed."

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— way too attractive set by mj <3 —

Truthfully, despite her anger and grief towards what happened, Fallon hadn't had much difficulty sleeping. Not usually, anyway. There were the few instances when she fought with Jesse and paced throughout the night. Usuallt, though, she stayed up late enough to become exhausted to the point of a dreamless sleep. It was almost as good as the sleeping droughts she had stashed.

Seeing Lachlan was an altogether different tale. His messy appearance was distractingly illfitting for him, and already Fallon was wondering how to get a potion into him so that he might sleep. Malou would understand if he was asleep on the sofa, she was a healer first and foremost.

"Thanks," she smiled warmly without standing to greet him. The spot was too comfortable and the supplies were already gathered. Instead, she gestured towards in the direction of the other end of her sofa and the arm chair. He could chose which. "It's mostly Malou's doing. She has a way of making everything feel like home."

Fallon lent forward and poured them both a drink of whiskey. It wasn't firewhiskey — a damn shame that was — but it'd do the trick all the same.

  

Lachlan chose the end of her sofa, knowing that her presence was one easier handled in close proximity than three feet away. They'd always sat close to each other, even before their misadventure in the tundra. He was careful not to be too presumptuous in the way he sat, though, and kept a respectful distance from her and his hands in his lap. He looked over at her and offered the best smile he could, but it faltered quickly and was replaced with droopy eyelids and a half-frown.

"I'm not surprised. She seemed very diligent at the hospital. Orderly." She'd spoken to him about decor, in fact, so he oughtn't be surprised that she was the one who kept the house feeling like a home.

He made himself comfortable and reached forward for the glass of whiskey. Good, it was likely to relax the both of them before they could find themselves in any intense sort of conversation. "Are you... well tonight? At ease at home, I hope?"

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— way too attractive set by mj <3 —

"Oh, she's a very dedicated healer," Fallon chuckled. With how many times Malou had patched her up it was difficult to imagine anything else. Such dedication worked out in her favor, anyway, since she so often needed quick healing. "I'd be a mess without her, and constantly in and out of the hospital." Being an auror had its downfalls, after all.

She sipped on her whiskey, and only scrunched her nose once at the burn. Despite how much she enjoyed the amber liquid, the bite always got her once. Perhaps the whiskey would allow Lachlan to sleep comfortably tonight. Though, the repercussions of falling into that habit could be dire. Fallon would make an utter fool of herself in his family home before allowing him to slip into such severe alcoholism. What else were friends for?

She missed the easiness of their conversations before the Arctic, back when everything still made some sort of sense. At least they weren't exchanging dark letters anymore. "Yeah, I'm okay. Been a long day today." She spent most of the afternoon watching the fireplace as planned. Her hands had only just stopped shaking an hour or so ago. Tomorrow would be better, though, as she would be presenting her birthday plan to Jesse. "Are you? Is it okay that we're here...? I just thought it'd be easier without so many other people around..."

  

The corner of his lips twitched into a smile at the thought of Miss Skovgaard fretting after Fallon. As if the life of a healer wasn't stressful enough. Having come to come home to live with someone in the most dangerous positions had to be so taxing—but Lachlan appreciated it. "I should thank her, then," he said, taking a sip of the whiskey. It was far from the strongest thing he'd tried; MacFusty boys had a partiality for strong alcohol, whether it was whiskey or scotch or other liquors, but he still appreciated the burn that traveled down into his chest as he drank. It was soothing. Comforting. "If it wasn't for her I'm sure I'd have reason to be checking in on you multiple times a day. It's good that you have someone who takes care of you." He had Tilda, sure, but it hadn't been the same since the incident. It would never be the same.

"The days seem longer than ever," he agreed. Before he could go an entire day at quidditch practice without realizing how the sun was inching its way towards the horizon, but now he'd memorized the positions and how they matched up to each hour. It was an exhausting knowledge to have. Being here would help, he thought, because it was easy enough to become caught up in conversation with her that he missed the changing of the skies. "Oh, no, I'm fine," he rushed, reaching a hand out and placing it on the top of her foot (which he hoped didn't bother her. It was the closest body part.) "I find it more comfortable than sitting at a bar. No need to keep up the.... appearances." The formality. The stiffness. They'd been through too much to ever be so naturally stiff with each other; if it wasn't for the question of her opinion on the matter, he might had patted the spot next to him.

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— way too attractive set by mj <3 —

"Multiple times a day?" She echoed without thinking. That he was this concerned was interesting, if not confusing. Fallon understood why Jesse might check in on her that often, considering their blossoming relationship, but Lachlan had always remained ... cordial. They were more giving with their comforting touches, sure, but the line was generally drew there. He hadn't shown any signs of caring for her other than a friend and trauma partner since their return. At least, none that Fallon had noticed.

She met his gaze and took another sip of her whiskey. "And who takes care of you, Lachlan?" Malou was her saving grace, her best friend, her confidante. Without the quiet healer in her life Fallon would've been lost years ago. They had promised no dark topics, but her next question felt unavoidable. "Who checks on you?"

The hand on her foot comforted any sudden anxieties she might've had about inviting him over. Ever since returning Fallon had a deep craving for physical touch, so even something as simple as the graze of a hand was relaxing for her. Somehow, perhaps a bit stupidly, it reassured her she hadn't dreamt their homecoming. "I agree," she smiled softly. "It's easier in the quiet to just be."

  

He wouldn't say it aloud, but he thought that it would make him less gallant of a man if he checked in on her any less. He might have been, even with Miss Skovgaard, if he hadn't been in such a bad mental state himself. He simply nodded as if it shouldn't be too unexpected—given that they were out of work and all. Yes. That was a good way to explain it.

"I shouldn't expect anyone to," he answered honestly, because he hadn't. Unlike her, an auror and a woman for all she liked to believe it didn't matter, he was a man and was expected to manage himself and his own emotions. Nobody checked up on him, because he didn't allow himself to seem like he needed help. If he was in a rough mood—or alternatively just plain exhausted like tonight—he got out of sight. That was the proper way to do things. "There's plenty of people who need checking in on more than me. I don't need a caretaker." It wasn't stubborn of him; it just was who he was.

Feeling her relax under his touch, he didn't remove his hand. The warmth from her body provided the same comfort that a babe might take to a blanket. It had become just that during her time in the tundra, and he swore that he could tell her apart from any other body on the planet by now. It was strange considering that they'd been mere acquaintances before prior to the incident, and even stranger since not too much had changed since their return, but it felt normal. It felt right.

"I remember lying in the cave before I fell ill," he started, his eyes drifting tot he simmering fire at the end of the room. "I remember having you curled up in my arms, and wondering why I couldn't feel the texture of your jacket or the skin on your hand. I remember just laying back and wishing we were here, in a warm room with a fireplace that didn't flicker every time there was a breeze." He remembered it and he always would; it would haunt him in his dreams, in his memories, and would forever be a defining moment in his life. "I'm happy we survived."

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— way too attractive set by mj <3 —

Expectations had nothing to do with it. Lachlan was quite obviously struggling, if his disheveled appearance and dark moods were anything to go by. He had been struggling even before the portkey activated, back in that bar when he was alone and mourning the death of that poor woman. Fallon's heart ached for him, and, more than anything, she wished she could alleviate some of his pain.

Settling her glass of whiskey on the table besides her, Fallon sat up in her seat and scooted closer to him. They weren't touching, in fact they might've sat closer during one of their bar encounters, but the few inch difference helped her feel as though he might finally listen. "No, you - nor I for that matter - don't need a caretaker. But it's good to have someone who cares. Someone you can talk to." Like Malou. Like Jesse (sometimes). Like him. "Someone you know will be there for you," she continued firmly.

Fallon was then taken aback by his admission. She had envisioned the same, of course, but had since chalked it up to a need for warmth. "I'm happy too." More than she'd ever be able to express. If he had died ... Fallon didn't dare continue down that thought path. Not tonight. "I thought of it too, being somewhere warm with you. My thoughts were more focused on the beach, though," she chuckled in her vain attempt at lightening the mood.

  

Lachlan watched her with careful eyes as she moved closer. He wouldn't admit it aloud, and it startled him to even have the thought run for his mind, but for a split second he had to fight the urge to fill in the gap between them and pull her against him. It was instinctive, he rationalized. It was what he'd grown to know as safe during that week when they were alone. The urge would fade with time, as they both returned to their lives. He kept his eyes on her as she spoke, and for a moment a smile overcame his dark features.

"You mean like you, then," he answered, because she knew it was true. She was the only one he could talk to. He'd injured his sister, and likely disappointed his family in the process, and most of his friends were quidditch folk who were more worried about the death he'd caused than the death he'd nearly experienced. She alone could empathize. "For now, at least. I don't expect you to keep tabs on me forever." For ever, for a while, much longer even; he would have to get used to sleeping with the candle burning beside him instead of the darkness, and pile on a few extra blankets when the cooler weather rolled in.

"Not too big a fan of water myself," he said, not wanting to admit that he struggled to swim despite his strength and athletic ability. He, of course, knew how to swim living so near the shore, but he'd never found pleasure in it. "I like the dry warmth. A knitted blanket, burning wood. Though I suppose the beach beats a freezing cave any day."

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— way too attractive set by mj <3 —

"Yeah, like me." The agreement was as natural as breathing, and, as long as they both lived, she'd continue to check in with him. Eventually, the compulsion to do so wouldn't come daily. He would settle and move on with life and not require the mess that she was budding into his life. Such was the natural progression of life, Fallon wouldn't fault him for eventually wanting some space between them.

For now, though, she would be present for him. The silent vow seemingly echoed between them as she kept her warm brown eyes focused on his own. "I'll be there as long as you need me to be," she murmured with a smile in case the vow wasn't obvious enough.

Dry warmth, humid warmth, it made no difference to her so long as she was warm. Having never visited a beach (aside from the filthy waters of the Thames and the Black Lake) Fallon's imagination had run wild with the idea of the beach. A blistering sun, cloudless sky, lounging on the sand. It was the dream she clung to in their darkest hours. "I've never had the opportunity," she shrugged.

Pulling at the edges of her blanket tucked beneath her, Fallon silently offered him the other half of it. The blanket wasn't wide enough to cover them both in their position, but she'd manage without being bundled for the time being. Plus, there was always Jesse's scarf (as the fuzzy socks were already on her feet) if she grew desperate. "Sounds like the beginning of a cozy evening. A log cabin, steaming stew. Is that what your home on the Hebrides is like?"

  

His gaze softened and he smiled at her, the bittersweet nature of the moment not lost on him. They'd nearly died, and tons of terrible things had happened in quick succession to make him feel that way, but he knew that in the years to come they could probably do this—just sit together and enjoy the company—after weeks, potentially months, without seeing each other. "I don't like to admit that I need anything—but thank you. It's good to know," he said, his gaze dropping from her face to the empty space on the sofa between them.

His mind went to his home. The Hebrides had beaches, plenty of them. Some had white sand, others grass; some shorelines were rockier and raised off the ground, and others provided the perfect spot to jump into the waters below. He'd seen some of his cousins do it many times in the past, yet he'd never found the allure of diving twenty feet into the water below.

"You should come visit," he said, his eyes finding hers once more. He accepted the end of the blanket, but hesitated. It was small and unlikely to cover them both, and she had to know it, too. She'd sacrificed warmth for him before, and even though it was not a pressing matter, a life-or-death decision, it was almost symbolic. Gaze dropping once more, he scooted towards her and motioned for her to sit beside him. "My home is as small as this flat and not nearly as homey, but you'd enjoy the isles."

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— way too attractive set by mj <3 —

She nodded softly, unsure of what, if anything, there was to add. While he seemed appreciative of the promise, Fallon doubted he'd ever reach out to her in his time of need. Call it chivalry or just plain stubbornness, but Lachlan seemed deadset on viewing her as a woman who required protecting. Even if she was the one who saved him. Even if she was the one who knew countless spells to protect him.

Visiting his home felt far more intimate than inviting him to hers. It shouldn't have, as they had the same level of risk. Lachlan was always so closed off whereas she was an open book. To be invited into his personal space so freely was simply unexpected on her end. "Sure," Fallon agreed. The Hebrides were reported beautiful, after all, and besides, she still had time yet before she went back to work.

Fallon hadn't sat besides him since the cave. Throughout his stay in the hospital she considered asking a handful of times but never followed through. The line in the sand had always seemed so obvious, that was then and this was now. Only, here he was extending the offer as easily as he had then. Pausing only to consider the implications (they were still only friends and nothing more. Hopefully Jesse would understand.) Fallon settled against him without complaint. "My childhood home was even smaller than this," she laughed. "Simple doesn't phase me."

  

Sure. It was a simple acceptance, and one that he might not have taken seriously if he'd made the offer to anyone else, but she'd invited him here and he had no reason to believe she wouldn't visit him. He'd never hosted a guest at his home; it was far from the most luxurious property, and most of his friends had much bigger, much nicer homes of their own.

"You'll have to sign a waiver," he said in a low, serious voice, trying to keep his face from giving away the fact that he was joking. "Dragons are dangerous, after all." His face slipped into a grin, then, and a chuckle escaped his lips. As she settled against him he naturally brought an arm up and around her shoulders, finding it more comfortable than having her leaning up against his arm.

"As long as you don't mind spending the day outside. There's lots to see and none of the most memorable sights are indoors." The MacFusty clan had a large home there, of course, but he wouldn't dream of taking Fallon there. They would stick to the shores, maybe visit the perimeter of the dragon territory, and then through the meadows and the cliffs.

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— way too attractive set by mj <3 —

For a second, Fallon thought Lachlan was being serious. It wouldn't surprise her since dragons were, in fact, extremely dangerous to those untrained on how to handle them. However, she soon realized it was a joke as he began to smile and laugh. "As long as someone could tell Malou I was eaten by a dragon so she wouldn't wonder forever, I don't need a waiver." Fallon replied with a laughable amount of confidence. "Unless she's welcome to accompany us..." It would be more respectable that way, too. His reputation would be less likely to be damaged being seen alone with her.

This position was too reminiscent of how she curled in with Jesse for Fallon to be truly comfortable. She wanted to be there for Lachlan, of course, but she also didn't wish to risk her relationship over a blossoming friendship. The line was impossible to comprehend, so she continued to sit against him but stopped herself from resting her hand on his chest.

"Being outdoors doesn't bother me." Malou, maybe. The healer's love of adventure was much more muted than Fallon's. "We'll make a day of it."

  

Lachlan smirked. "As if I'd let you get that close." As if he'd willingly get that close himself unless necessary. There was a reason Lach had taken the quidditch route instead of the dragon-keeping one. It was one thing to enter the dragon territory to support the family, but another to enter with the intention of entertaining a guest. He was already imagining a route to take her through the islands when the topic of Miss Skovgaard came up. He blink and felt his chest tighten, but pushed it aside in order to make his answer seem as natural as possible. "Of course," he said swiftly, now beginning to dread the day Fallon and her roommate showed up at his doorstep.

"Let me know if any other friends want to come along. Maybe my next career move can be as tour guide," he said off-handedly, the words left his mouth without much thought. He really didn't want to be a tour guide, but he supposed it was better than handling the dragons up close.

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— way too attractive set by mj <3 —