Backdated!
Who: Bess Zeller and Drystan Fawcett
What: Fighting over flats!
When: A few weeks ago! - Backdated!
"It's got the best view in Ockbrook!" Janet the realtor exclaimed, opening her arms wide as she walked into the living room of the flat. Bess shifted Sadie on her hip, examining the wooden floors carefully with each clicking step of her heels. She didn't want to give away her excitement too much, it might make the realtor a reason to up the price, but holy hell. This flat was absolutely perfect. Sadie would have her own room, there was a balcony where Bess could watch her play in the small yard and...
It wasn't with Fabian. Bess looked up from her thoughts as Janet waved some documents around.
"You look smitten," she said, "Sign this and it'll give you a two week claim on the place. My treat!"
Bess' eyebrows rose at the prospect; two weeks would definitely be enough time to figure this out. Her new salary was definitely going to be stretched (especially without the cushion of Fabian's quidditch earnings), but she needed to get away from the lovely life that was literally blown to pieces back in Dublin.
"All right," Bess said with a nod, putting Sadie to the floor as Janet handed over the clipboard. Staking a claim couldn't do any harm, right?
Drystan supposed it wasn't too much for his baby sister to want to make a break for it after school. After all, now that her siblings had been settled elsewhere for quite some time, she was entitled to want to strike out on her own. He certainly could afford it, and there were few things he wouldn't do for his youngest sibling. Thus, the search for a suitable flat began. But being that she was leaning towards settling in a more Muggle-friendly community than a pure Wizarding one (which, she said, would limit her to Hogsmeade and a few other places, and she had little-to-no desire to see them for the rest of her life), he had to convince Fenton, his real estate agent, to hunt for something that wasn't a grand mansion, which he seemed entirely reluctant to do.
Well, what better place to start than his old town? It was unfortunate that he had broken the lease on the flat he'd had here, in order to make the move to Montrose, but he didn't really think it an appropriate place for his young sister, anyway.
"As you can see from the grounds tour, Mr. Fawcett, it's a very safe and friendly complex. It comes with my highest personal recommendation, and--" the two males re-entered the parlor area of the flat from a skeptical Drystan having asked to see the property for himself, Fenton stopping short when he realized there were two females standing in the flat who were most certainly not standing there before they had left.
"What are you doing here, Janet?" Fenton asked, narrowing his eyes, his voice clearly straining to remain civil. "Didn't anyone tell you that this apartment has been closed to showing because of a very prestigious client?"
Drystan did nothing but allow the corners of his mouth to turn up in a smirk, as he began to recognize the blonde standing next to Janet-the-realtor.
Bess' eyes couldn't help but widen at the sight of Drystan. Yes she knew his name, she'd been in a bloody tabloid with the man! Not that it really said anything about them, just something about her being a damsel in distress or--whatever, but still. Fabian had taken it badly, and every time Drystan's name was on the radio or mentioned in the journals there was grumbling, and did he have to be so handsome? Really. Bess was glad that the man Fabian decided to hate was drop-dead gorgeous because that showed he believed she had taste (which she did), but it would be so much easier not to blush and become a fool if he was an unfortunate looking fellow.
But then they wouldn't have to worry at all. It was an endless cycle of nonsense.
She felt her cheeks go red and she turned away to face the now bickering real estate agents. Bess pursed her lips and crossed her arms, listening to the ranting. Prestigious client? Just because he was a famous quidditch player, he was supposed to get first pick? Drystan could buy bloody Hogwarts if he wanted, there was no need for him to steal this flat from her.
"I've signed something," Bess butt in quickly, taking a quick look out of the corner of her eye toward Drystan. No, no, she could blush and fidget at his gaze, but she would definitely be able to keep her cool in legal matters. She felt Sadie reenter the room from the kitchen behind them, babbling about 'ridderrators' and 'tinks'.
Drystan heard light footsteps from behind, but was genuinely surprised by an addition to the party. To his immense surprise, an angelic blonde girl toddled in from the kitchen, clearly looking at Bess in adoration and some other emotion he couldn't quite put his finger on. He was honestly baffled, trying to discern who this girl could possibly be to Bess Zeller. Sister, perhaps, and in the same vein, perhaps also a half-sister. Some other obscure family relation, such as a cousin, or niece, that was also plausible. The child of a friend, and therefore, not a family relation was also possible, but the same distinct shade of brassy blonde felt far too similar to be anything but blood-relation. It was also possible that this was her daughter, and it occurred to Drystan he had no idea as to what this woman's marital status was.
His eyes followed the girl as she made her way to Bess, one eyebrow quirked in a studying manner. "Claims can be broken," Drystan said quietly, allowing the realtors to continue in their bickering.
"I legally have two weeks to decide if I want the flat, and until those two weeks are up I have the right of no disturbances in the negotiating process," Bess rattled off quickly, sweeping Sadie up onto her hip in one fluid motion. Of course she'd read the documents before she had signed, and with her work in the law offices she was becoming keen on what to say and what to remember. She could sue this realtor if he pestered her about dropping her interest in the place, and that would open up a whole new can of worms because of who his client was. Drystan Fawcett, the debonair quidditch player, harrassing a poor single mother over some flat space?
She totally had this in the bag.
Even if she decided she didn't want the flat, Bess was now sure that she wasn't going to resign her claim until 12:00 midnight on the bloody dot. How infuriating! She was sure she wouldn't find herself bothered by the offers of the other men looming over her, but the fact that they were there was annoying enough to have her flustered for a bit.
Janet the realtor looked smug and proud, and she poked Sadie's nose, "Your mummy's a smart one!"
Bess straightened her shoulders and smiled widely as Sadie laughed, grabbing at her nose. She then puckered her lips and Bess complied with a quick peck, and suddenly Bess was quite pleased with herself.
Drystan raised his eyebrows at Fenton, who was positively flailing at these new developments. "Now see here, Janet, simply because you fail to read memos does not allow you to--" Drystan saw he had that taken care of.
Instead, he walked forward and dropped down to a less intimidating stature, looking the little blonde curiously in the eye. So that was her daughter after all, he mused, giving the little one a small grin, having both the same hair and the same eyes, it only made sense.
"That is interesting. They were supposed to have stopped showing this apartment for me. Clearly, they leave something to be desired with management." He glanced briefly at the pink-in-the-face Fenton, now jabbing a finger at Janet. It was a good thing he was stoic by nature, because the sight of the wildly gesturing agent (and his motivations for doing so, most likely, since it was a delicate balance of Wizarding and Muggle lines crossing and Drystan was an important Wizarding client) had him hiding a smirk.
Drystan held his hand out over the propped up knee, offering it as a handshake to the girl, almost disregarding Bess entirely. "What's your name then, miss?"
A face of pure annoyance and frustration had overcome Bess' amusement as she watched the realtors go on and on. If she had to give up the bloody flat because some quidditch player felt like it would be a good bachelor's pad she would---huh? Her eyes darted down to Sadie, who was now babbling on at Drystan Fawcett.
"Saytee Mahwaid," she responded, slapping his palm and causing Bess to flush. Fabian always asked for high-fives from the girl, it wasn't exactly a proper greeting and---oy, what did she really care? She was two. Two-and-a-half.
God, she had a nearly three year old.
"Sadie Mairead," Bess supplied, running her fingers over the top of her daughter's hair. She couldn't think about the time when she barely recognized Sadie as her daughter, but since she'd been with Fabian, since her sister started coming around more to help, Sadie had become more and more important. Well--she was the most important thing to her, now, but Bess hadn't expected that to happen. Which was terrible, and she would feel guilty for the rest of her life about being a horrible mother these first few years of Sadie's life, but---she was going to try and make up for it.
Sadie seemed to like her a lot, which made her think she was doing a good job.
Noticing that the realtors had seemingly forgotten that their clients were in the room, Bess rolled her eyes and turned back to the kneeling Drystand and her daughter. She looked like a little doll beside the giant of a man, which would be endearing were he not trying to steal her flat away.
"How old are you?" Bess asked Sadie, and Sadie bounced on her toes, shouting 'TWOENNAHAV' and throwing up five fingers. Bess blushed and shrugged.
He blinked in pleasant bemusement to the slap on the hand, corners of his mouth tugging upwards. Informal, so far as greetings went, but they could get away with anything at this age. If manners were the problem, but Drystan found most children delightful just the way they were.
"You've a bit of Celtic in you as well, have you?" he asked, giving Sadie a small wink. "I can relate."
This game of question-and-babbling-answer continued just a little while longer whilst the realtors battled amongst themselves and he avoided discussing anything involving claims and apartments and who had the right to which. Technically speaking, her claim was easily voided by the fact that the company had promised he'd be the only potential buyer they'd show the apartment for, but such matters needn't be brought up. Drystan was curious to know more about the blonde, anyway, so he was content stretching this meeting out for however long he needed.
"She seems quite precocious for her age," he remarked, finally glancing up at Bess again. "I'm curious as to how to chose her name, however. Sadie's quite yank, though, I mean her second one. Husband a Celt?"
Obviously, he had little to no trouble assuming things.
Bess had lowered herself herself to the floor to sit cross-legged behind Sadie, watching her daughter answer go on and on. Some sentences were spoken as clear as day, and then the next was basically gobbledegook. She sent Drystan a smug smile at his compliment on Sadie's intelligence; if she hadn't been the most doting mother this entire time, she had definitely been the most persistent. Bess had saw no reason to wait until Sadie was older to try to teach her things like her numbers and colors, or even things as silly as how to properly blow out her 1st birthday candles.
Oy, she'd made like ten cakes that week until Sadie had figured it out. Probably more like a dozen.
Okay well Veronica had made the cakes, but it felt like she had gained a few stone from it.
Bess' smirk fell as he questioned about Sadie's father. Or, rather, her husband. Aha, that was rich, she thought, as her left hand curled closed (quite voluntarily). Let's see. What was the story behind Sadie's name? Definitely had nothing to do with her heritage, Bess hadn't thought that much about it. She'd been obsessed with The Beatles throughout her whole pregnancy, and the baby kicked like mad when 'Sexy Sadie' came on one day, and there you had it. Adam had picked Mairead, and Bess had liked it and...yeah, that was it.
She'd come up with a better story when Sadie began to wonder.
"I just liked how they sounded together," Bess responded, a tight smile on her face as she ignored the question about her non-existent husband. Really, would she be looking over a flat without her husband? Maybe some women would, but certainly not Bess.
He noted she avoided answering the question. Interesting, but not unfortunate--there were other means to finding out such trivial matters. It was preferable to get one's information from the source, but clearly that wasn't always possible. Drystan rose up off his knees and gave clothes a slight dusting off, turning his attention fully to Bess.
"I'll be frank with you, Miss Zeller," he began, clasping his hands behind him, "I'm quite interested in this place, and it is evident you are, as well. I have no intentions of withdrawing my bid for consideration, in spite of your claim, but I hope we can remain civil during the legalities of the matter?"
Bess was now officially bored of Drystan Fawcett. For a few minutes he had seemed like a friendly sort of man, that she'd found herself smiling at with his interactions with her daughter. Now she was sure that he was just your regular holier-than-thou quidditch player. That's why Fabian was different than the rest of those neanderthals, ugh.
She stood, sweeping Sadie up along with her, and turned primly away from Drystan to stand stoically and listen to the realtors. Not before getting in a final comment (because she was not going to speak to him ever again, especially if he won the flat).
"Stealing a flat from a single mother, I'm sure the rags will just love that." Bess bristled and shifted Sadie to her other hip, her annoyance evident on her face.
