Waiting in the shadows (Zoya)

Michael was sitting at his table in the Leaky Cauldron, reading message Rabastan gave him during his last visit in Azkaban. He had to smirk for himself. His dear friend had many requests past all these years, yet this one was quite unique. Michael was quite amused, but also felt slight desire for challenge. Challenge that Zoya will be wihthout single doubt. At least according to what Rabs wrote to him. She was supposed to come here in a few minutes. At this time of the day, the place was full. So, her only chance to sit would be at his table. How convenient...

It was an old ritual for Zoya, it was the time of the year when many Hogwarts hopefuls made their trek through Diagon Alley and made acquaintances with the many facets of the magical world and it was the time when she visited The Leakey Cauldron like she used to so many years before. Only now, she did it everyday, more out of necessity because like she had obsessed over so many times, the food at the hotel sucked.

She was almost a regular here now, and she made her usual round of nods as she walked upto the counter to place her order, her priorities never changing. "Hiya Tom. The usual, but please try and make a decent pie today, kay? And really, would it kill you to use some whipped cream? its science, whipped cream makes everything better. And please, learn a scourgify and use the damn charm on your cutlery." She ordered, smiling pleasantly at the old bartender who muttered something under his breath and got her order together. Today it was exceptionally crowded and she looked around absently, trying ro find an empty spot.. Before she could find one though, Tom placed a heavily loaded tray in her hands and ushered her out of the way. Oh no, she thought, biting her lip as she tried to keep the tray balanced and find a spot. Wait, there was something else I was supposed to do no? The thought came to her suddenly, and she frowned lightly trying to remember what it was that she was so conveniently forgetting. Oh well, food first anyway. Now let's get a seat.

"Looking for a place to sit?" Michael asked Zoya, quite amused as he saw her. She really was as Rabs described her. But he forgot to mention she was also beautiful. This task will fun, he thought as he scanned her body and her face. Keep an eye on her... well, Michael was pretty sure he would like to keep more than just an eye on her. But everything has its time, right. "Because you look pretty confused and clumsy in the same time, standing over there, in the middle of the way for everyone else. These people can be dangerous, when they don't have enough firewhiskey in their hands you know?" he teased, interrested in her reaction.

Zoya had to blink as the wave of handsomeness crashed into her, literally forcing her mouth to hang open in a very undignified manner. "Uh..." get your act together lady! "Right....and what gave it away? My desperate longing looks to chair or the mental ballads I had written to tables?" She recovered herself, valiantly trying to make a joke. Wait a minute, what is he even doing here? People never talked to other people in the Leakey Cauldron, it was like the law. You never knew exactly who or in some cases, what, you might end up talking to. Oddly, he reminded her a bit of Rabs and the thought managed to get her focused enough to be slightly suspicious.

"People are always dangerous. And honestly, firewhiskey just makes them bearable, not less dangerous." She replied, rolling her eyes as a smile forced its way on her face. The distraction almost managed to make her lose the whole tray on a poor firstie's head, managing to catch it and balance it at the very last moment. "But no worries, I will hold onto it for a while." She added unconvincingly, smiling as she looked up at the guy, "So.....lead the way?"

He watched changes in her face and eyes as she was thinking about who he was. It amused him even more and so he smiled at her. "I feel like I made an impression," he flirted with clear british accent which was surprising with him, for he grew up in Czechia and managed to pick up British accent in just two years of living there. "Follow me," he lead her to his table, where glass of firewhiskey was waiting for him as well. "You can only hope that will make my company more bearable to you," he joked looking at his glas. "Ladies first," he pulled chair for her to sit as true gentleman.

"You presume too much." Zoya muttered to his back as she gripped the tray more tightly and made her way through the maze of tables to the one in the shadows. "Of course. You just had to choose creepy places." She continued in the same low tone, covering it up with a bright smile. "Bearable, but not less dangerous?' She teased back, a bit surprised as he drew the chair back for her. "I had forgotten the British." She mused, smiling as she realized that she was home now, foreign to her as it was now. "So....introductions? Zoya, by the way." She introduced as she set the tray down and arranged the many plates off it. "How come you are not eating anything?"

"Not even a little bit less dangerous, my dear," he teased back, impressed by her approach. He could tell she had a suspicion. Well, Rabastan Lestrange is her best friend, how could she not be suspicious? "No, not British, Czech," he admited without hesitation. "Just had two years of practice," he added with a smirk as he took his own seat. "Michael is my name. Michael Gamp," he introduced himself properly to her, still smiling with his crooked smile. He felt urge to laugh afterwards. Of course she would ask for food. "I don't really like the food here. Besides, there are homemade cookies waiting for me at home," he replied with a wink.

"So I am in a dark shadowy place, with a bearable but dangerous guy. Wow, I really know ho to pick 'em." Zoya remarked, loading some food onto her plate. "Well, at least there's pie." She added, placing a piece of the said item with a blissful expression on her face. "Czech? So what brings you up here? By the way, I must say, brilliant accent." His nationality made her pause for a tiny second but then she tried to suppress her paranoia, because that's what it must be. She was just new to the heavy air of danger that hung around London and it was effecting her, she would adjust. Eventually. "Aah yes, cookies are so much more enjoyable then this mush but I could geed you things a lot worse so hey, count our blessing I guess?" The word cookies got her attention immediately and just added to her suspicion. Could anybody really be that perfect? And if so, what were the odds of her meeting him anyway?

"So Michael, you don't like the food here, its lunch time and too early to get smashed or pick up girls. What exactly are you doing here?" Her tone was teasing and she seemed distracted by the the oh so difficult task of choosing through her order but really she was focused on him. a suspicion had begun to form in her mind and she didn't like it and hoped she was wrong but the chances of that happening were low. He wouldn't dare......,She thought, her eyes narrowing automatically as she mulled over the possibility.

"You know, you are quite clever, I have to give you that," he smirked again as he leaned against his chair. Even about this Rabs warned him. That she will most likely find out more or less what is going on very fast. "Figured me out so fast, and yet there is no other place to sit, so, what will you do?" he teased her, enjoying all this more and more. She was cute. And also undeniably hot. Rabs really knew how to make sure he won't get bored.

"Son of a....." Zoya swore, wanting to slam something but she couldn't bring herself to thrwo the food so she just settled for leaning back in her chair and glaring at Gamp. "I am going to kill him, I am going to rip him apart and use his bones as bloody chopsticks while I feed his damned intestines to the dogs, no....dogs are too awesome, wolves. While I feed him to wolves." It was easy to be so angry at him, after her visit there she hadn't expected him to come up with this. This was beyond cheap it was borderline creepy and a total disregard for her painfully obvious feelings. "So what did he tell you exactly, huh? Did you get a whole file on me to ease you in your stalking?' She demanded, crossing her arms before she regretfully uncrossed them to begin eating. The food was odldly disgusting in taste. "I am not going to sit a minute more with his blatant attempt to manipulate me. I hear muggle London's got some decent restaurants." She retorted snidely, getting up with a heavy scrape of her chair against the floor.

Michael couldn't help but laugh at her reaction. She was beautiful even when she smiled. It was easy to understand now, what Rabastan meant by love of his life he could never have. She was apparently cheerful and crazy, shiny personality. "Calm down, sweetheart. We both know you will just forgive him like you always do. Because, well he told me a lot. He really cares for you, you know?" he told her honestly, still amused, but trying to make her stay. "If it makes you feel better..." he rolled up his sleeve to show her no dark mark on it. "I am not exactly manipulative evil death eater," he told her.

He is laughing at me! Ugh, bloody good looks. Seriously, the nerve?! How dare he just assume he knows me because he is been given a crash course by my damned best friend? Laugh all you want moron, I am not staying here. Zoya's thoughts were in a complete disarray, a potent mix of indignation and anger coursed through her and she want nothing more to slam something on Michael's laughing, too bloody hot, face and walk out with drawing her ragged dignity around her. But as usual, curiosity won out. Especially when he rolled up his sleeves and showed her his dark mark, or well, lack thereof.

"First thing, don't call me that." She snapped, dropping back down on her seat and continuing with a roll of her eyes as she crossed her arms. "Second, no you are not. You are an over-glorified babysitter for someone who neither wants, nor needs you." She hoped insulting him would get to him and he would just give up on trying to keep an eye on her, because if he wasn't a death eater than Rabastan could have sent him for only one thing. "Third, tell me everything." She ordered, turning a bit of her attention to food. There was no reason she couldn't find some good out of this, however mediocre the food.

"And oh yes, I forgot but you are not going to be able to trick me again. Nope, nuh huh."

He laughed again. "You are funny, he mentioned that," Michael pointed out, avoiding the name just like she was. She probably knew that saying name of one of the worst Azkaban Inmates in a pub full of people wouldn't be the best idea. Which was good, otherwise they would have to leave. "If I told you everything now, where would be fun in that?" he asked her, rolling his sleeves down again. "And you don't have to need me, nor want me, sweetheart. Truth is, there is nothing you can do about it. I may not be a death eater, but I never said I'm not siding with them. When you do what I do, you pick some stuff up. For example, like not losing a person you are meant to look after, out of your sight," he teased her. "Maybe coming back to UK wasn't that smart move after all," he pointed out.

"It doesn't have to be fun." Zoya countered, still smarting a bit because of his obvious amusement at - what she took to be - her expense. "For all I know, you could be some random creep who found out a bit about me and now wants express permission to stalk me around?" She pointed out, using her fork to further drive the point by making a vicious jab in his direction with the word 'you'. She wasn't actually that angry at him, but she was tired of being confused and tearing herself apart over what Rabastan had done and what he meant in her life and what did that make her and being angry saved her from feeling all that, so she welcomed it. "I told you to stop calling me that! I am not your sweetheart."

"And what is it you do that gives you so much free time that you would take on caretaker jobs?" She asked, her voice partly trying to sound insulting but really curious too. If the guy was so determined to stick around, it was best to know more about him so she could use it against him somehow. Surely there must be some way to get rid of him. "I wasn't trying to lose trail of anyone. You wouldn't stand a chance if I did and about my return, I don't remember asking for your opinion." She retorted, inclining her head in a mock thoughtful way, taking a pause from her eating.

"Well, I know you are quite funny and cheerful personality. I know you despise barbie girls, I know you love food and I also know that despite you being all goodie and stuff, there is one prisoner you keep thinking about at night," he said as he leaned closer towards her, to look into her eyes with his own, dark ones. "And you are right, you are not my sweetheart... yet," he smirked darkly before he leaned back against his chair again, amusement never leaving his face. "In a way, I'm your superior I believe, meet Jr. Undersecretary to minister herself," he told her, o she knows at least something about him. "I'm busy, but luckily, part of my job actually is to look after ministry workers. In a way," he added a wink to provoke her.

"Wow. You said all that and suddenly I am totally okay with you keeping tabs on me. Why ever did you not say that before?" Zoya asked sounding very shocked and being very insincere about it. The words came out a bit sharper because of his comment about Rabastan. Surely, if he knew that, then Rabastan must have told him how she felt about him and that thought made her feel even more unsettled and since the only person here was Michael, he was going to bear the brunt. "Or ever."

Zoya visibly blanched as she learnt about his job because even though he wasn't technically her department head, he certainly had a lot more authority than her and could get her fired if he wanted. Easily. "Firewhiskey." She demanded, holding out her hand for his glass because she definitely needed some kind of intoxicant in her system to get through this. Wait a minute, he is my senior at work.....what if he...... ,Hey. Don't you ever dare to mess with my work. I will find you, and I will come up with some entertaining ways to make you suffer. After all, I wasn't his best friend for nothing." She threatened but anyone who knew her would know that she would probably never follow through with it. It was a kind of test, he wasn't willingly going to tell her exactly what he had been told about her, so she figured that this was as good a way as any to guess.

He handed her his glass with a smirk. And laughed as she tried to look dangerous. "Really? After he gave me very detailed description of your personality, you actualy believe I will fall for this?" he asked her amused more and more. "Let's face the facts... there isn't much you can do about me without having to worry about your current life and position," he started seriously. "Of course you can ignore me, but I'm willing to bet it won't last really long," he continued, thinking. "Or, you can just go to dinner with me," he suggested out of nowhere. He liked her. And ever since he saw her, his goal was much more, than keep her safe. He had a feeling Rabastan knew this when he sent her to him. He had his reasons. He had Katrina now, Zoya was the dangerous past. Specialy when she was single. With this girl, it wasn't hard to guess Rabs was tempted, so he rather sent her into arms of someone else, so they both don't do something stupid.

"How exactly did you get this......cheat sheet to Zoya Morte anyway?" Zoya asked, wondering if somehow she could use the same method to make sure Rabastan learnt exactly what she thought of his gesture. "Seriously dude, how egoistical can you get?' She deadpanned, conveniently neglecting her inner ranting over Michael's good looks. But I have to admit, his looks aren't the problem, She admitted, sneaking a glance as she slid the glass back to his side of the table, its every time he opens his mouth that it gets annoying. Probably, some part of her was so determined to not like him just because Rabs had sent him so that she could like him. It was childish, but it was her.

"Or I could knock you out with this plate. Or I could scream that you want dates and trust me every female in the vicinity would respond. Or I could...." Zoya trailed off in her suggestions not realizing that she was inadvertently complimenting him, as one very important fact made itself clear to her. "Its lunch now." Stating the obvious and slumping a bit as some of the anger got replaced by confusion. "Oh."

Michael seemed to leave his amusement behind for bit, but only outside. Inside, he was actually having quite fun. "Try it, and you will regret you even thought about such a stupid move," he hissed at her darkly, leaving British gentleman behind, now rough czech accent clear in his voice and darkness in his eyes. He was coming from the cruelest lands and even if he didn't show it often, he was quite proud of what Czechia made him. "You can hate me all you want, but we both know it's just a matter of time before you change your mind. After all, you did let darkness into your heart once. Second time it's always easier," he finished, wicked smirk across his lips.

A while back maybe, Zoya would have flinched at the sudden change but spending time with Rabastan in his cell had stripped that particular manoeuvre out of much of its effect. "We will see." She stated in a bland tone, though the darkness in his eyes did make her draw back slightly. She was unwilling to give him the satisfaction of making a visible reaction so she just went back to her food as if it was no big deal. One thing she was pretty clear about now, there was no way in hell she was spending any more time with this guy, she was already in a mess because of the last time and was so not willing to repeat it.

"Never heard of the expression 'Once burnt, twice shy' have you? Because according to that and basically every sane person in the world, it isn't." She countered, juxtaposing his smirk with a completely insincere sweet smile even if her heart did go just a little bit faster on seeing it. Something's wrong with the food here.

"You really believe that all this, those supposedly sweet smile, irony, probably even bunch of friends... you really believe it will help you, don't you?" he asked her, genuinely curious. He was told that lions tend to be naive. But some things just never stopped surprising him. "Well guess what. I'm not your precious best friend, who spent years hiding his feelings for you, because he just didn't want to ruin your life. I don't care. I want you, Zoya Morte. And I'm sure as hell gonna get you. Like it or not, the moment he told me about you, you were doomed," he told her simply but darkly enough. He could wait. Of course she was not going to just fall for him after one awkward conversation. But he knew it will happen eventualy. He could see it in her eyes.

"Well, you seem to believe that your sudden accent changes, the little glimpse of the darkness in you you let me have or even your job is supposed to......I dunno, have an effect on me or something so I guess both of us have equal misconceptions about this conversation." Zoya answered lightly, not correcting his theory about her friends because truth be told, at the moment, she didn't have many and she certainly was not going to drag them into this, whatever this was.

His next words forced her to drop all pretenses of focusing on her food and to stare at him in utter disbelief. Wrong on so many counts, starting with the first, tosser. Rabastan did not have feelings for her, at least in the same league as Zoya's feelings for him and Michael bringing it up again and again was like rubbing salt on her wounds. "Seriously, just how delusional can you get?" She questioned incredulously, "Because this conversation only cemented immense and many faceted dislike for you." She finished, finishing the last of her food and looking up again. "So let me help you understand, that means you're doomed for unrequited feelings." The last sentence had her a bit disbelieving because she genuinely believed that Michael was saying all this just so he could manipulate her into making it easier for him to keep tabs on her.

"As I said, believe what you want, sweetheart," he smirked, his british accent back. "Believe whatever helps you sleep at night," he added before he got up and tossed some money on the table for his whiskey and her food. With that, he appraoched her and looked at her from above. She was sking for it. Whole conversation. So he did it. He leaned down to her and quickly, before she could react, kissed her hard but gentle in the same time on her lips. The kiss didn't last long. Just a couple of seconds before he pulled away and dissappeared in the crowd "See you very soon, darling."

(OOC: Let's make a new one. This way we could continue forever  )

"I could do an American accent, you know?" Zoya blurted out in, for lack of a decent response and before she could correct it, he was already getting up so she just stayed quiet, glad to be getting rid of him so she could at least enjoy whatever mediocre dessert Tom dished up for her. And if her plummeted a little, there was obviously something wrong with the pie.

"What are yo-?" Her question was abruptly cut short as he suddenly leaned in and kissed her, drawing back up before she could react. His words snapped her out of her daze of indignant longing into outrage. "Bloody wanker!" She muttered, hoping to trip him or something to give some outlet to her anger but he was already gone into the crowd.

Jaw set, Zoya picked up his money and counted out the change for his whiskey, dropping the rest into her pocket and covering the difference with her own money before stomping out into the sunlight, involuntary smiling as she gazed at the London streets milling with muggles. He is gone, its not raining and I am home! She thought, determined to mastermind her way out of this mess somehow but first, office called.