Relaxing with a hard drink

[Bane Orwell]

Bane was sat in a booth in the back of the bar, his hat tilted forward to cover his features while he sipped the triple malt whiskey in his glass. He let out a long sigh as he swallowed the fiery liquid. He had grown quite accustomed to coming to the Three Broomsticks after closing shop and waiting for Wren to finish her shift. He got to relax wit ha drink, enjoy a warm meal, and, the most enjoyable part, watch Wren. His eyes followed her now, watching her every movement and her interactions with the other people in the bar.

He knew he could probably go upstairs and wait for her... but he enjoyed having his dinner on the bar floor. It reminded him of what it was like back when he was an active Auror. Spending countless meals in various mudhole restaurants around the country while waiting for a source of information. The worse part was that he fetl so much older than he was... only having spent twenty one years training and than serving as an Auror. But he'd earned a retirement. With Voldemort dead, his crusade of justice was over... or so he'd thought.

But than Gordon Flintock decided to keep hunting down the Death Eaters. He'd called Bane back as a liaison to assist with their investigation and tracking leads. Bane hadn't told Wren that yet... not wanting her to worry about him. He was reserving himself mostly for interrogation of prisoners or witnesses and reading through reports. He didn't want to be an on scene Auror again... he was retired after all. He wanted to just live in peace... unless the Death Eaters were proving themselves to be an actual threat, he saw no point in chasing ghosts.

Bane let out a snort and took a long pull from his drink as he pushed his thoughts aside.

[Brigitte Deneuve]

Brigitte entered the Three Broomsticks, every molecule in her body tingling with fury. She had just left the Shrieking Shack, and Dale Matthew's insultingly condescending attitude, moments before; when Brigitte was this angry, she did stupid things. Dangerous things. Like right now.

Luckily, she'd had the presence of mind to disguise herself; a few quick flashes of her stolen wand and Brigitte's features were just different enough to give anyone who did not know her extremely well reasonable doubt as to who she was. Anyone who did question her could easily be dispatched, or at the very least, Confunded. Brigitte half-hoped someone would recognize her; she'd love the chance to let off some steam.

"Firewhiskey," she demanded of the barmaid, slapping some coins down on the counter. She gulped the drink down and wiped her mouth in a thoroughly unladylike manner, glowering at the empty glass. The bar was mostly empty; normally Brigitte would have kept her head down, tried not to be noticed; but tonight she was itching for a conflict. She was tired of laying low, doing nothing, staying quiet. She wanted to fight, torture, maim and kill. Badly.

Her gaze lit upon a man sitting in a dark booth in the corner. She could barely make out his face; was he watching her? It was impossible to tell.

Then, as he moved forward ever so slightly and she caught sight of his face, she grinned as recognition came to her. Bane Orwell. All thoughts of torture abandoned her as an even better idea came to her; she would rat out Dale. Let him get himself caught; what did she care?

She slid off her stool and moved towards him, slinking like a cat. "Bane Orwell," she purred as she approached him, sliding into the booth across from him without waiting for an invitation. "It's been forever."

[Bane Orwell]

As the woman slid into the booth opposing him, his hand beneath the table pulled fell to the grip of his revolver. His eyes narrowed as he scanned her features, looking for a point of recognization. Something about her set his mental alarms off but he couldn't place her. His eyes narrowed as he lifted his head upward to give her a full look at his face... no point in hiding it she knew who he was.

"Not too many people choose to slide in unbidden when it comes to me, Ma'am. I'd suggest speaking your purpose quickly and tell me who you are. Thins could get unpleasant otherwise." His voice came out as a low growl and there was the distinctive sound of a hammer being cocked.

[Brigitte Deneuve]

Brigitte heard the sound of the hammer being cocked, as she was sure he had meant her to. Did he think his gun scared her? Who did he think she was, a Muggle? She felt perfectly certain that she could, at the very least, match him should it come to it.

"My purpose is to inform you of a plot to murder at ze school," she said, her voice quiet as she leaned back nonchalantly, her hand slipping into her sleeve for her wand in a smooth, undiscernable motion. "Interested?"

[Bane Orwell]

Bane's eyes caught the movement of cloth and narrowed his eyes, "You still didn't say your name. And, assuming I believe you, how did you come to possess this knowledge?"

Bane's mind started racing immediately. He needed to know if this information was accurate... if it was he had to warn Flintock. But how could he determine if she was being honest. Not to mention the motion of cloth. Informants normally avoided any action that could put him on edge.

Than his mind wandered to another issue... what did she want in return?

[Brigitte Deneuve]

"I'll tell you everything I know on one condition," she said smoothly, noting Bane's glance down at her sleeve and completely ignoring his comment about her name. "That you let me walk out of 'ere un'armed...and if you are wondering why I am 'olding my wand - you don't expect me to let you point your gun at me without pointing my own at you, do you? Zat would just be stupid."

She pulled it from her sleeve and twirled it nonchalantly between her fingers. "I assure you I will not use it unless you make me."

[Bane Orwell]

"Place it on the table and I promise you can walk out of here. I don't hurt people who provide information... bad for business. But I want details: who you are, who's planning this, who they're after, how you got this information, and why you're telling me."

Bane lowered the hammer on his weapon gently, and lifted his glass to his lips for a sip of the whiskey. Her condition was pretty easy to agree to, but it confirmed his suspicions that he should know her. She probably had some negative history with Flintock's people... not that she knew he was working for the Ministry again.

[Brigitte Deneuve]

Brigitte digested this silently. She was sure that someone like Bane would hold to his word if she agreed to his terms; nonetheless, she was not keen on giving him her name. But then again, she did have a second stolen wand hidden in her boot. It didn't work nearly as well for her as the one she was holding, but if he decided to try anything she could quite conceivably buy herself enough time to Disapparate.

She laid her wand on the table and pushed it towards Bane, out of arm's reach as she watched his face. "Dale Matthews," she said, instead of telling him her name. She'd withhold that information until he demanded it. "Surely you've 'eard of 'im...'e plans to murder someone at 'Ogwarts tomorrow while everyone is at ze memorial service. I'm sure you know what tomorrow is?"

[Bane Orwell]

Bane took his hand completely away from the revolver and took the wand that was on the table, placing it on the edge of the table. He took in the information he'd just been told, pulling everything he knew about Dale Matthews. The name was an easy one to recall, he'd been captured during the attack on Hogsmeade and had faced several accusations by known Death Eaters after the war. He was a pure-blood, which sparked Bane's old hatred... and reminded him why he hated the Death Eaters. However, he still needed to know how she had come to know this information... and who she was.

"I know the name... and tomorrow is the anniversary of the war's end. Do you know who the target of his attack is?" Bane's voice was slightly less harsh.

[Brigitte Deneuve]

"I don't," Brigitte said throatily, shaking her hair back from her face and scowling; the memory of Dale's actions were still rankling stormily in her chest. " 'e would not share zat information, 'e said it was personal and zerefore we did not need to know. I tried to make 'im tell...but ze others would not listen to me."

[Bane Orwell]

Bane looked over the woman again. Her features, while altered placed together in his mind and he let a growl rumble from his throat as his eyes narrowed, "And why should I believe pure-blood trash like yourself, Deneuve?"

Bane's hands closed into fists but he forced himself not to reach for the colts. She was trash in his eyes, but if her information was correct than she would be doing something positive with her worthless life.

[Brigitte Deneuve]

A sly grin spread across Brigitte's face as she watched recognition come over Bane. "You do remember me," she purred, winking cheekily at him. "Let's just say...I've 'ad a change of 'eart."

She wasn't going to say much more than that; if she were to tell Bane the real reason she was turning Dale in (which was mostly because she was pissed off at both Juliet and Dale), he'd probably arrest her, or kill her, or both. As long as he thought she was repenting...she was somewhat safe.

"But if you don't believe me, why don't you go ze Shrieking Shack? I 'ave just left there, zey are 'aving a meeting as we speak."

She didn't actually know this. Most likely the meeting had broken up and they had all dispersed. If Bane was stupid enough to charge into the Shrieking Shack and the Death Eaters were there...well, there was enough of them that they could take down one bumbling ex-Auror. And who would dare say Brigitte had been unfaithful if she brought them Bane Orwell? It was a win-win situation in her mind, really.

[Wren Taylor]

Having watched the happenings going on, across the room in one of the booths between Bane and some woman, Wren had tried to pull herself away from the bar but had failed.

The second the clock struck eight pm though, she let her hair down, went into the back room and started mixing the drink she had made Bane on their first meeting, the one that looked like the night sky.

Grabbing a large, crystal, bottle of the triple malt whiskey and placing a glass for it over the lid, she, without spilling a drop, ran back to the bar and slid across it, landing perfectly, the crystal, both glasses and the liquid intact.

Shaking her blonde hair from her face, she took in a deep breath and stood tall. Who ever this girl was, she had better be planning on not staying long.

Stepping up silently behind Bane, she bent round him, placing the bottle and the cocktail on the table in front of him and kissed him on the cheek. "Hey sweetie." She smiled, lightly, glaring across the table at the girl infront of her.

"Sorry I couldn't get the time off, I tried but you know what Bridget is like, she's closing up for me tonight." Perching sideways, lightly, on his lap, she kissed him again, keeping her eyes on the girl opposite. She wasn't intedning to stay long, she needed to shower and freshen up, but it could wait for a few minutes. "How has your day been?"

[Bane Orwell]

Bane's eyes and muscles relaxed as Wren sat in his lap. He let an arm circle around her waist and gave her a soft smile before kissing the junction of her neck and shoulder. He loved her soft skin under his lips. He let his mind wander, forgetting Deneuve's presence for a few seconds.... relishing the fact that he was retired. But the moment passed and once again what she'd warned him of flew through his mind.

"My day has been.... decent," Bane's voice dripped with acid at the word while shooting Deneuve a hard glare, "Some funny customers at the shop today and than I ran into this old acquaintance from my Auror days."

Bane turned his attention fully on Deneuve again and, with a reluctant nod, slid her wand across the table, "I'll pass the message on to the right people. I'd get lost now if I were you... before I have a change of 'eart."

A slight sneer appeared across Bane's face as he quoted her own words. He let his hand stroke softly along Wren's spine as he kept a hard gaze on Deneuve.

[Brigitte Deneuve]

Brigitte could barely restrain her snort of laughter as the blonde bartender sent her a dirty look before kissing Bane in a show-offy sort of way, clearly in an attempt to send Brigitte some sort of message regarding just who Bane belonged to. Like Brigitte would ever let the dirty old Auror touch her. Part of her wanted to fuck with the waitress a little, just to piss her off. Now was not the time, however...Bane still had her wand, and she needed his cooperation in her little scheme.

"I'd get lost now if I were you...before I have a change of 'eart."

Brigitte took her wand from the table, flicking her eyes sensually up at Bane. No harm in pissing off the little blonde waitress a little, was there? "Until next time," she purred, injecting as much sexual tension into her voice as possible. Whether or not the blonde actually cared - and Brigitte was quite sure she didn't - it at least served to amuse her for the moment.

She strolled casually from the bar, and once she had reached the fresh air of the street, disapparated away, a smug feeling settling into her chest. Already she was making plans to attend the memorial tomorrow - not for anything would Brigitte miss Dale's arrest.