January 9th, 1891; Afternoon — Muggle London

True, museum fundraisers were not exactly his cup of tea even in magical society, but the event at the museum in muggle London had afforded him at least a very vague excuse not to visit his mother—she had a friend with an unmarried daughter coming for tea. Muggle London was glorious in that he was all but unrecognizable, though as he made his way through an exhibit on Greek vases he remembered how utterly boring such anonymity was.

Then he saw her.

It was a recognizable face, one he had seen at numerous fetes in magical Britain. Surely she would offer him at least a brief moment of recognition before melting back into the bland, magicless crowd?

"I had thought myself alone in this particular crowd," he offered by way of greeting as he came alongside her.

Hurling! Unmarried female 18-24, MC/UCAB, that would have attended the same sort of events as Fitz in the past, that he might recognize her.

  

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Cecily had come to the museum with the muggle branch of the Gallivan family. Ever since Nathaniel "died", they would invite them for the holidays, thinking that it was lonely for his widow and children. Cecily rather enjoyed those invitations, even if it meant that she had to spend time with her cousin Kenton. She hadn't forgiven him for playing for a team other than the Cannons! That being said, for the sake of the festivities' good vibes, neither of them brought up Quidditch. His family was supportive of his magical status, but they got so confused whenever they brought up anything magical!

She was standing in front of some vase when a familiar face approached her. "Mr. Prewett!" Cecily exclaimed. He was the last person she expected to see at a muggle museum. She wasn't sure which part was the most surprising one, given his character. Muggle, or museum. She leaned towards the second.

"I didn't have you for a history lover!" A thought crossed her mind but... No. The other twin would have never been so bold as to approach her like that!

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"I am a man of many surprises, Miss Gallivan," he returned deftly with an easy smile. "Although, I confess that that is not likely to be one of them—the organizer is the brother of an old school chum of mine, and apparently this—" he gestured about them "—cost a pretty penny."

  

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"You are such a good and supportive friend!" Cecily commented with a smile.

"I do wish that they had brought anything more exciting than vases though," Cecily continued. "Statues, perhaps. Though they would have surely caused my aunt to faint, seeing that, you know..." Cee tilted her head to the side with childish playfulness. "They're not exactly wearing their best frocks."

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Fitz did not chuckle at the comment but rather let out a genuine—and loud—laugh at the comment, a laugh that drew accusatory glares from a nearby group of muggles.

"Why, Miss Gallivan!" he chided gaily. "Though none of my sisters are precisely young anymore, I am quite sure that young ladies are still not supposed to remark upon such things! Or are muggles much more liberal about the human form?" Fitzroy added with a sly wink.

  

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Mr. Prewett's laugh was contagious and Cee laughed along with him.

"It is art, Mr. Prewett! To be featured in a painting is clothing enough!" It was considered the height of an artist's skill to be able to depict the human form. "I've heard that some frescoes in certain churches of the renaissance period have scantily clad men! As for women, I suppose our body is less deserving to be featured in art and that is why we should take such great care of concealing it!"

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"On that," Fitzroy countered, his taking in the strategic cut of her dress, lingering just a beat too long on her bosom, "I am afraid I must disagree most ardently."

  

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It wasn't lost to Cecily that Mr. Prewett was flirting with her. She rather liked his attentions -- even though she's been around Charming's consciousness since her tender childhood, she was a woman of twenty now, an age when a heterosexual woman enjoyed the flattery of handsome men.

"Then you are certainly not like those other bores that only appreciate the symbolism of an apple or a tree in a painting!" Cecily replied playfully. "I was quite lucky to find you here today than say, Mr. Aldous Crouch." Cee had nothing against Mr. Crouch, but he did strike her as the sort of man to only talk about books written by elderly people.

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"I would happily wager myself better company than any of the Brothers Crouch," Fitz added brightly. Even Reuben, arguably the least stiff of the bunch, lacked Fitz's flair.

"Besides," he added, "I think Aldous Crouch in particular would be far too stiff to do this."

To punctuate his sentence, the wizard released a chocolate frog onto the nearest display.

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   Marianne Finch

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Cee rather liked Reuben Crouch's company. He was fun, like an older brother. More fun than her own older brother. She'd never view him as she did Mr. Fitzroy Prewett, though. For one, he was married and that was an instant friend-zone for Cee. He was also short.

The last thing Cee expected was for Fitzroy Prewett to release a chocolate frog into the world. She began to laugh uncontrollably and brought her hands to her lips. Some heads had turned their way.

Then, a lady screamed, followed by the sound of broken ceramics.

Cee's eyebrows rose. "Mr. Prewett!" Cee exclaimed and added with a quiet but theatrical tone: "We must hide!"

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   Aldous Crouch

Rather daringly—but then, they were in muggle society where their actions were hardly likely to be remarked upon—Fitzroy grabbed Miss Gallivan by the hand and led her swiftly into a nearby alcove. It was largely obscured by a rather tattered tapestry, but if placed strategically, the magical pair might be able to watch the delightful carnage Fitz had wrought.

That is, if they stopped laughing long enough.

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   Marianne Finch

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Between running and laughing, Cecily was out of breath by the time she was pulled into the alcove. Her lack of breath, combined with being alone with Mr. Prewett made Cecily blush like crazy.

After she'd regained her composure, Cee managed to say: "M-Mr. P-Prewett-t-" Her voice was still cracking with laughter. "That must be one of the funniest things that has happened to me!" She playfully hit him on the arm with her gloves. "Peeves would envy you!"

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Her laugh—no, her glee—was enough to make Fitz very glad that he had run into Miss Gallivan today. He beamed (not down, though, for she was really quite tall and he quite average in that regard) at her and, as their eyes met, almost, almost took the single step it would need for them to be very close indeed before thinking better of it. He had scruples. Occasionally. They came and went, really; quite flighty little things.

"I learned a great many things at Hogwarts," he returned with a mock loftiness, "but very few from those paid to instruct me."

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   Elon Wildsmith

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Cee's heart nearly stopped. She had had flirtations in her life, but she had never actually gotten physical with anyone. She imagined that this was how people ended up kissing, though. Hidden away from the public eye after having shared an exciting experience.

Her breathing had become heavy. "And what other things did you learn, Mr. Prewett?" Cee asked weakly. "I was a Ravenclaw, you see, I love learning new and different things." This was too much and she tilted her head a bit and looked away to keep her heart from bursting, though she quickly moved her gaze back to Mr. Prewett.

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   Alice Dawson, Fitzroy Prewett

Merlin help him—there went those scruples again.

It was her fault, Fitz decided in that moment. Her words, her tone, her body language, her body. She had asked him one question, yes, but her very being was asking another altogether.

He answered her question not with words but with deed. It was easy, really, for him to lean, to close the gap between them. His practiced lips met hers—full, warm—in a kiss. Though a far cry from chaste, the kiss was not particularly hungry either; at least, not yet. A caller, knocking upon a door, rather than a burglar making free with the silver.

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   Camilla Prewett, Cecily Gallivan, Helga Crouch, Jupiter Smith

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Was it possible to die of pleasure?

Cee couldn't even name the sensation as pleasure. For a moment, she thought that her heart had stopped, that she was now dead, murdered by Fitzroy Prewett's kiss like they were the heroes of some ancient Greek myth.

This was her first time kissing anyone, but she somehow managed to find her way around it. After the initial shock, she placed her hands on Mr. Prewett's chest and pushed towards the kiss, signalling that she was certainly open for more.

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   Fitzroy Prewett