Guess Who I Saw Today, <Dee>

[Blaise Zabini]

The rest of Blaise’s day went well enough after meeting Trent in the bookstore. He’d gone back to work and done that for a little while, figuring he could talk to Dee about things later this evening when he goes by her place, something he does with relative frequency but not overwhelmingly much.

He raps on the door and greets her with a deep kiss. He likes doing that, because watching her all day in the office and not touching leaves him wanting to kiss and touch. So far it’s been just kissing and some touching, heavy snogging sessions that leave him aching with want yet holding back as if waiting for whenever the time is right.

“Hello, beautiful,” he tells her, smiling against her lips before pulling back. “And how was your day?” Of course he knows that she was at work, but it was still a good thing to ask. It’s not like he knows everything she’s done today, or how it affected her.

Slipping a hand into his pocket, he pulls out the book he bought and unshrinks it. “For you, my dear.” He’d get around to meeting Trent later.

[Delia Fleming]

Dee has just showered and changed from her work clothes--she smells like lemongrass soap and floral shampoo and the delicious perfume Blaise had bought for her and her hair is still damp and curling wildly in rebellion--when Blaise knocks on the door.

She's barefoot and in jeans when she answers the door, and her broad smile is stolen by his deep, amazing kiss. She lets herself get swept away in the beauty of it... kissing Blaise is now top on her list of favourite things, and she's almost dizzy with the swell of it when he pulls away.

"Hello," she murmurs. She smiles saucily. "Oh, it was OK," she says. "I have a secret, though," she confides, pulling him back with her and then closing the door. "I spent the last hour of the day in distinct non-workage mode--I was watching this gorgeous man... mmmm."

She wrinkles her nose at him. She's lying for the most part, but yes, when Blaise had come back into the office she'd done some looking, of course. "And your day?" she asks coyly.

"Oh, thank you," she says, taking the book from him. She reads the title and her eyes widen. God. He is just so thoughtful and perfect sometimes. "This is EXACTLY what I need, Blaise," she says.

[Blaise Zabini]

She’s fresh and damp from the shower, and it brings delightful thoughts of water rolling down skin and hair clinging to wet flesh. Ah, the joys of having a girlfriend, even if you weren’t totally intimate with her yet. He slips his fingers into the curly dampness as he kisses her.

He allows her to lead him inside, using the quick opportunity to check out how her jeans cling to her hips. “Oooh really,” he says, the corners of his lips turning up. “And just what was this gorgeous man doing? Perhaps watching a beautiful woman in turn?” he says, catching her by slipping fingers into two of her belt loops.

“Productive. I did work, I watched a pretty woman, I did errands at lunch, went to the bookstore… ran into someone you know there… came back to stare longingly at you some more and now I’m here,” he says, teasingly at the end. In truth, he’s still productive as usual at work, but he does enjoy the respite that she provides on the eyes.

He smiles broadly. “I was hoping you would find it helpful,” he tells her. “It seems like it will be a good source for you to use for that project of yours.”

[Delia Fleming]

Dee pretends to look a little woebegone. "Sadly, no... he was busy talking to the rest of the staff--" Following up on their progress, giving a little motivation, growling here and there. She sniffs. "I don't think he knows I exist."

Dee's beautific smile morphs into a quizzical look when Blaise mentions that he ran into somebody that she knows. She tilts her head to the side. "Jani?" she guesses. She's the only person on Diagon Alley who Dee knows regularly browses in the bookstore.

Dee turns and puts the book down on the side table. "Oh, definitely," she says, and she winds her arms around his neck and gives him a rewarding kiss. "Thank you," she says again.

She slides her hands under the lapels of his jacket and helps him slide his jacket off, taking full advantage of the situation to slide her hand over his chest, feeling the play of muscles beneath her fingertips.

"So while you were busy buying my book, did you have lunch?" she asks skeptically. How he survives on coffee and charm, she'll never know. She hasn't made dinner, but there are things for salad in the fridge and she had been pondering about pasta before Blaise had arrived.

[Blaise Zabini]

“Mmmm, how anyone could not know you exist I don’t know. You’re so bright and beautiful, I doubt anyone could miss seeing you. Perhaps he was merely watching you from the corner of his eye,” he says with an amused smile.

He shakes his head. “No, not Jani. Your brother, actually. He was there looking for some book or another, I suppose.” He couldn’t recall, actually. He mentions it casually, though, but he’s prepared for her to be mad – her brother seems to have the power to spark her temper more than anyone.

Blaise enjoys the help out of his jacket, and more than that, the touch that goes with it. She touches him a lot, and it’s not something he’s ever going to complain about.

“Yes, darling,” Blaise says dryly, but his lips are turned up in amusement at the gentle nagging. “I actually did go to lunch before the bookshop. I do eat, you know.” He tugs on her belt loops, pulling her forward so that he can drop another kiss on her lips. “Bane is the one that lives on air and affection.”

[Delia Fleming]

Dee feels a bright warmth flood through her senses, like liquid gold in her veins. She smiles broadly at Blaise and presses her hand flat against his chest. "You are the master of flattery and charm," she tells him. "Don't stop being that way." Her eyes sparkle with amusement and enjoyment. Blaise is VERY good for her ego; she's good for his, though, so they're even.

Dee's smile fades and her mouth opens as her eyebrows rise halfway up her forehead. "You talked to my brother in the bookstore?" she asks. Her tone is more quizzical than anything else at the moment, although there's a rising sense of alarm at the thought of the two men talking—somehow, she can't imagine them having a friendly heart-to-heart about publishing or dragons.

Dee snorfles. "I'm sor-ry," she drawls. "I really don't mean to nag… well, yes I do, actually," she amends, flashing a smile at him. "Reggie makes me," she says seriously, lying through her teeth again. Dee smiles against his lips. "Bane eats toes," she corrects him.

"Anyway… I was going to make some pasta, and since you've arrived, you're now sous chef," she informs him. Her fingers move to his tie, and she loosens it with quick fingers.

[Blaise Zabini]

He chuckles and takes her hand in his, pressing a kiss to her open palm. “I don’t plan on it any time soon,” he tells her. She takes flattery in stride and even returns it, something that he enjoys. Terri stuttered, blushed, and refuted all of his compliments, it seemed like.

Blaise nods. “Yes. I talked to your brother in the bookstore. Unless there’s another Aussie Dragon Keeper that goes by the name of Trent wandering around Diagon Alley,” he says with a faint grin. “He seems like a nice enough bloke. Though not as outgoing as you,” he says almost teasingly.

He shakes his head at her. “That girl. Whatever am I going to do with her,” Blaise says as though exasperated. In truth, he’s quite fond of Reggie, who is one of the few women allowed to get away with bossing him around. “Hmm, true. And ankles,” he says. In fact, he’s been surprised so far that Bane hasn’t followed him into Dee’s home – she’s bound to sooner or later. Wards never stopped that cat.

“Sous chef, hm? I think I can handle that,” he says. “Ah, you sure you’re not preparing me for dinner?” he asks mischievously as she loosens his tie

[Delia Fleming]

Dee thinks that Blaise is being deliberately vague about his encounter with Trent. She raises her eyebrows just a little bit more when he makes a joke of it; almost like he's hiding the truth of the matter behind a tease.



"What did you talk about?" she asks, now insanely curious. "And how did you ever get to talking?" It wasn't like they'd been introduced before… and Dee doesn't think Blaise would walk up to Trent and start chatting idly… so that just leaves… her interfering prat of a brother!



Dee smiles, her dimples dipping into her cheeks. "Mmm. You would be tasty." She leans forward to press her lips against the warm "V" of skin that is exposed now that she's unfastened his top button. She has the sudden image of Blaise all trussed up for her delight, and she laughs against his skin, then pulls back, eyes sparkling mischievously.



"What do you want to drink?" she asks, sliding her hand down his tie. Her fingers curl around the smooth material and she pulls gently, stepping backwards towards the kitchen.

[Blaise Zabini]

“Dragons, for a few minutes,” he says. “And you, of course.” Because what else do they have in common except for Dee? He sighs slightly. “He came up to me while I was looking for a book for you,” he admits. “Of course, it was easy enough to tell who he was.”

There is a family resemblance on top of the accent – both are tanned and blonde and share some similar features, especially if you know what to look for.

Her dimples are so endearing. “Not nearly as tasty as you, my dear,” he says, enjoying the soft press of lips against his skin. She laughs and he raises a half-amused brow at her. “Do I want to know what brought that look into your eyes?” he asks with a deep chuckle. Somehow, he rather thought it was something that would be too good, but it also made his mind go all sorts of places.

He follows her, obscurely amused about being led. Rather than demeaning, it’s actually kind of… well, arousing. Sexy. “Whatever you’re having,” he tells her.

[Delia Fleming]

"Dragons?" she repeats, a little incredulous. Does Blaise even like dragons? She doesn't know, because that's not anything they've ever broached in conversation. Dee can't really imagine where Trent and Blaise's conversational interests might cross, except for...

Ah. There it is. "Me?" she repeats. She stifles a groan. "I don't suppose you guys talked about how fabulous I am," she says with a sense of impending temper. Her mouth drops open. Trent had approached Blaise... Trent, who never steps into the line of conflict, who is too shy to talk to most new people. Oh, Gods... He'd been playing at protective older brother, hadn't he? "I'm going to..." Kill him? Hex him? "... strangle him," she says.

Argh. She quells the rise of temper, though, because it's not Blaise's fault. He's the victim and the messenger, and it's not /his/ fault. It's Trent's fault. "I'm... sorry," she says with a wince.

~

Dee laughs. "I beg to differ," she says, and leans forward again to taste his warm skin. She catches her lower lip between her teeth and gives him a coy look. "Do you?" she asks after a heart-beat of eye-contact.

Dee lets go of Blaise's tie when they reach the kitchen, the smooth material sliding through her fingertips. The kitchen space is small, but certainly large enough for the two of them, if you don't mind rubbing up against your kitchen partner (which Dee doesn't). After pouring two glasses of apple juice for now—wine can come later if Blaise wants—Dee sets a pot of water on the stove. A tap of her wand later, and the stove is on and the water inside the pot is bubbling merrily. She sets another pot on the stove. "Tomato base or cream base?" she asks.

[Blaise Zabini]

“Yes, dragons,” he says, some dry amusement colouring his tone. “I know a little about them and about the reserve.” And if he hadn’t before he’d met her and found out her brother worked at one, he would have gone out and found out some about it so he would have something to discuss with him.

“Well, I discussed how fabulous you are. He did too. Just in different ways.” He discussing her as the woman he’s dating, Trent speaking of her sa a little girl that needs protection. His lips twitch and he tries not to smile at the temper he sees building in her. “Don’t kill him. He meant well. And I told him I’d try not to get him into too much trouble with you.”

He shakes his head and does smile now. “Don’t apologize. It’s fine. I expected it, after all, if not at that time.”

~

Ungh. Yes, he has the sexiest girlfriend around. There will be no argument on that. He watches her with dark eyes, feeling pulled into her own gaze. “Mmmm. I can imagine, I think,” he says, and leans down to press his lips against hers, half hungry and demanding, half pliable.

He sips at his apple juice – how long has it been since he’s had that? – and watches as she begins to set things up to make dinner. “Hmm. Cream,” he decided. “Need me to do anything?” he asked, leaning back against the counter as she works. He’s not hopeless in the kitchen, and he’d been good in potions, though he rarely made things himself these days.

[Delia Fleming]

Dee gives Blaise a dubious look, because she doesn't really believe that he's all that into dragons at all. "I suppose it is a conversation filler," she says, guessing at his motivation.

Dee sighs and presses her lips together as her nostrils flare slightly with irritation at her brother. She rolls her eyes. "So he DID know he was going to be in trouble, then." And he did it anyway. She narrows her eyes. "He didn't do anything stupid, like threaten you, did he?" she asks.

~

She smiles against his lips and gives into the kiss for a moment, before she gives him a sultry look. "You don't have to imagine," she says, almost in a contemplative tone. There's a slow want that simmers in her blood. He's been the utter gentleman, almost like he's been holding back entirely for the most part.

Dee contemplates for half a second, then slides a chopping board and knife down the counter to him. "Mushrooms go with cream sauce," she says, and a punnet of those is extracted from the fridge.

[Blaise Zabini]

“Of course it is. And there’s a political aspect as well.” Which should explain some of his working knowledge, seeing as how he definitely keeps up with politics and plays the games that goes with them rather well.

Do not be amused, he tells himself. “After you warning him before, I’m sure he did, but I was right there… I doubt most would have resisted.” He really isn’t trying to get the man in trouble, as that would cause him to be less well looked upon by family, but Trent rather had dug a hole for himself.

“Only obliquely. I cleared up some of the gossip that had reached his ears as well. Assured him that I am perfectly capable of monogamy and I am not using you as a rebound relationship.” Been there, had those. He says it lightly enough, however, trying not to make it sound negative.

~

Her words take a moment to be processed, and there’s a definite spike of lust that surges through him. His fingers slip through two of her beltloops, and his thumbs caress the skin just above the waist of the jeans. It was a subtle invitation, he knows, and one he would very much like to take her up on.

“Might just have to let you show me,” he murmurs a mite huskily, looking down at her with dark eyes. A moment passes and he turns her around, keeping a hand in a belt loop as he nudges her to the kitchen.

He takes the knife and the mushrooms and lines a couple of them up, and the knife is smoothly rocked back and forth, slicing with little effort. “How small of pieces?” he asks idly, contemplating if he needs to turn them to dice them small. Potions had been one of his better subjects.

[Delia Fleming]

Dee relents, because she knows Blaise has his fingers on most political pulses--even ones she doesn't entirely understand. "Oh, all right, then," she says with a grin. "I just think they're good for shoes and handbags, but don't tell Trentie that," she teases.

Dee is feeling very snarly towards her brother at the moment. Best he give her a few days to calm down or he might end up being hexed. Solidly. "Couldn't resist, my arse," she says, shaking her head.

She gasps when Blaise gives her the details of the conversation. "He didn't insinuate that!" she says, incredulous, although the exact implication of what Blaise has just told her doesn't really sink in yet. It doesn't occur to her that he's, in a way, telling her the same thing.

~

She switches the pot for a pan and peers over his shoulder at his question. "Hmm. That's great," she says, with a rewarding kiss to the side of his neck.

Cooking with magic is something Angela had taught Dee--you have to have the ingredients in your kitchen or fridge for a cooking spell to work. But if so, then you can cast the spell and it will automatically deplete your supplies. So when Dee taps the pan and a knob of butter and garlic appears, it's a simple relocation Charm, nothing like conjuring food from thin air.

She reaches for a wooden spoon. "Have at it, big boy," she teases, and she goes about creating a simple green salad. There's something really comfortable about cooking shoulder to shoulder. It feels like an utter couple thing to do.

[Blaise Zabini]

He snorts. “They do make pretty clothes, but yes, your brother would be appalled. I will seal my lips of that information,” he says, teasingly pretending to lock his lips and throwing away the key. The balance is being kept enough right now that there are some pants, boots, belts, etc, but also not as many as had inundated the market years ago.

“He is your big brother,” Blaise points out, though he doubts it means the same thing to her as it does to Blaise, who is a big brother himself and rather familiar with the feelings of protectiveness they both feel.

“Not exactly,” Blaise says. Not in those exact words. He’s paraphrasing and summarizing the conversation, really; though he seems to not be doing well with the ‘not get into trouble’ portion of things. “Just making sure that the worst of the rmours aren’t true and that I’m not out to hurt you.”

~

Blaise does his portion in the kitchen, smiling as she kisses his neck. This feels almost frighteningly domestic, but oddly enough, it’s not exactly a familiar feeling. He and Terri had never cooked together; they’d always gone out, or had the house elves do it, or had gone to the kitchen individually. This was somehow comforting, being close to her and helping out.

He chuckles, poking her playfully with the handle of the spoon. Everything settled for a moment, he comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her from behind, pressing his lips briefly to the soft spot behind her ear. “What sort of dressing will we have?” he asks.