WHO: Miles Lufkin, Arista Sykes, and a surprise guest appearance
WHAT: There's something going on in the captain's offices
WHERE: Pride locker room
WHEN: TONIGHT
There were very few things that could take Miles Lufkin’s mind off of quidditch. Especially with the playoffs only two weeks away and the Pride barely making it into the brackets (okay, all the Phoenix teams made it into the brackets, but the placement! The
placement!), the only thing on his mind was quidditch, his team, strategy,
quidditch, and more quidditch. It was why he found himself so sharp with his players, with their personal lives and the like; dealings with Seth Wadcock brought unnecessary stress to his seeker that could easily be avoided if she wasn’t so headstrong.
Yes, it took a lot for Miles to lose his focus, and as his hands moved up the bare, thin waist of his current suitor, he realized that this woman on his lap was one of them.
Intoxicating, she was, invigorating, and as she leaned forward her golden hair fell like silk into his eyes. She loved to tease him, she loved to make him
wait, but he couldn’t, especially not
now when she had shut them in his locker room office after a rather grueling practice.
“
Cat,” he let out lowly, his lips pressing to the spot between her breasts, “You have terrible timing.”
She'd been
yelled at.
It had been completely out of line!. Arista grumbled to herself as she stalked toward the locker room. This was not to say Arista Sykes was exempt from team captain disciplinary action. There had been several times in past where she had been on the receiving end of Miles's fury and deservedly so. That was the difference—she'd earned it before. Her performances may not have been garnering consistent match-winning results, but her technique was studied and near-flawless! Her personal life was admittedly something of puzzle—mess—something confusing—but it was being handled! But no, her captain had torn into her for a good five minutes on the pitch, needlessly, and her game had been shot for the rest of the night though she'd sullenly run drills until well after everyone else had deserted the field.
Snapping her goggles on top of her head of wind-ravaged hair, she'd angrily jammed her broom into the locker and bodily closed it with an aggrieved shove. There was light spilling out from around the door-frame of the office he normally occupied and it gave her grim pleasure to see. Arista would go in there, she would give Miles a piece of her mind, because
yes, everyone was on tenterhooks because of their precarious placement for the play-offs, but that was simply no excuse, she thought as she marched toward the office and pushed the ajar door further open, simply
no excuse for treating his players like they were "MMPHH—"
Oh, Merlin. Oh, Hera's hopping hippogriffs.
Catriona McCormack, ex-Pride, current team benefactor and unofficial manager, coach, and sort-of reserve, was straddling her captain while in a state of semi-dress.
She could not move. She honestly wasn't even sure if she was breathing at this moment in time.
If Catriona McCormack was anything, it was professional. While Miles’ eyes went as wide as saucers and he lurched back and away, Catriona turned and scoffed at---
Sykes. The older woman picked up her discarded robe from the desk behind her and unhooked her legs. Miles’ gaped in shock as she stood and hooked the clasps of her robes up, glaring at Arista. Once the top clasp was done she disappeared with a loud
crack, and she left behind a heavy loaded silence.
Miles blinked a few times, his mind whirling. One second he was ready to ravish his secret suitor, and the next he was sitting his chair, bare chested and completely hung up with---”
Sykes!”
He stood quickly, grabbing his robes to fling them on and over his head, unsure how he managed not to get caught up in them as he was moving so frantically. “Sykes! What are you
doing, don’t you know how to
knock, what is
wrong with---get out of here!”
Not that it mattered. Catriona was gone and it would take more than a late night owl to get her to come back. He glowered at his seeker, pulling on his boots and lacing them up quickly, “What are you even doing here?!” Miles snapped.
Her eyes were as big as saucers. Nay, her eyes were
bigger than saucers. Possibly the most important woman of her acquaintance barring her own mother had just swept past her with her nose in the air despite only a moment ago having been caught almost naked and Arista hadn't even managed a
simper.
So frozen was her mind on the picture now mentally blazed across her frontal lobe that she didn't even register Miles's tirade. "Was that — did I just...?" Reason suddenly struck her, and she threw her elbow guard at Miles in shock, outrage, awe, and perhaps the tiniest bit of disgusted fascination. "YOU!" She pointed at him with a finger not entirely steady, whether from adrenaline or something else, she could not say. "Are you — sleeping with
CATRIONA MCCORMACK?"
His wand was out immediately, sending a quick bolt of a spell to the door to make sure it was
shut and locked and silenced---Sykes was going to be the
death of him, he was sure, or
he was going to be the death of
her if she did not shut up. The elbow guard him him with a bit of a pinch and he stormed around his desk.
“That is none of your business and if you know what’s good for you then you will keep your mouth
shut!” Miles snapped, ordered,
demanded, his finger pointing stiffly at the seeker. If word got out that this little affair was going on, he was sure that the media would have his and Catriona’s reputations destroyed. Miles didn’t have the
best of images, but breaking up the marriage of one of the most beloved quidditch players of all
time would absolutely destroy whatever credibility he had in the league and---it simply could not be so.
He did feel, because he knew his seeker and he knew it well that Arista would need some sort of answer other than ‘be quiet’ and he rolled his neck, “Cat propositioned me, and whatever Catriona McCormack wants, she gets.”
Miles couldn’t help the satisfied smirk that slid onto his face however, and leaned back on his desk. He did not know if he would have to hear a confirmation of Arista’s silence or if he could trust her. She was a smart girl, she would be able to see the ramifications of a story like this leaking.
Arista could hear in her mind her mother's voice screaming to spin this situation to her advantage, and though she wouldn't actually
know why, she could just feel it in her bones that the next time she saw her mother, Jocunda would be radiating disgusted disappointment at her un-opportunistic daughter. But she ordinarily liked, even idolized, Miles, and for all her attitude, was shockingly bad at things requiring subterfuge, deceit, and trickery. So no, she honestly had no idea what she was supposed to do with the information that had just been handed to her, but had at least snapped her gaping mouth shut now.
Except, gracious, she truly had no desire to have seen either of them in such states, nor did she want to know
anything about Catriona McCormack's mode of extra-maritally picking up men... even if she was wildly successful.
Well, perhaps that bore thinking on.
"I wouldn't say anything!" Arista exclaimed, tossing her head back with offense. "I particularly would not say anything during this most crucial and delicate time of play-offs in a season where we have received some very bad press!"
And
perhaps he needed to attack her a little less and concentrate a little more on being not as conspicuous with where and how they were conducting their affair. Which had been going on thankfully-only-Merlin-knew how long.
That was precisely what he wanted to hear. Miles had to play that he was not scared of Arista and what could be the start of a very controversial media swarm, but he knew that he would have to watch his tongue around his seeker; she portrayed the epitome of class in the public eye but he had seen her off the pitch and behind closed doors more than enough to know the fury the girl could release. Anything said in front of the wrong person or at the wrong time could completely ruin his career and with his already uneven foundation on the team he could not risk such a scandal.
Being brought in through the M.A.G.I.C. act was still a sore spot with many of the Pride’s supporters, and Miles had protested Catriona’s advances for some time because of it. Denying her seemed to make Catriona want to win him over even
more, and Miles wasn’t particularly proud of how hard he’d fallen, but still---He did not want to be the belligerent
scoundrel that was messing around with one of their most beloved players, he did not want to lose his captainship after leading the team through some rough patches. Miles had no intention of ever stepping down, but he also had no doubt that the management would throw him to the wolves before Catriona’s reputation was completely tarnished.
“Thank you,” he managed, knowing he had to show some gratitude toward Arista if he wanted her to stay on his side. She knew just as well how delicate of a situation this was and hoped she put her team first. Miles began to pack up his belongs, his gaze dropping away from Arista as a sign that the conversation was over and the scene to be forgotten, “Practice is early tomorrow.”
