Farah Dowling WRITOBER 2O22

People like you need to fuck people like me

"So" you said, taking a long sip of your beer, "what is the most important Headmistress in the Seven Realms doing in a place like this?"

You were in a First World low key pub, the working-class bordering on criminal kind of pub, smokey and dark. Ben Harvey had contacted you. He had found your number in Saul's phone, under "In case of emergency".

Of course, Saul Silva being Saul Silva, his kind of emergency wasn't exactly the regular kind.

That was why he was currently in prison, why Ben Harvey had sounded on the verge of a nervous breakdown and why you, the best specialist Saul ever trained, currently working as a free-lance spy for various First World humanitarian organizations, were sitting in an improbable shady bar with the most powerful and uptight fairy of the known universe.

Not that you minded. Farah Dowling's specific brand of uptightness and composure was exactly the sort you enjoyed teasing. You had always found her intriguing, even when you were at Alfea watching her from afar. But you had been too young then, and after moving to the First World you had had little opportunity to see the woman. She still emanated the sheer, exciting, dangerous authority you remembered from your school days, though. You knew Saul had an historical, hopeless crush on her; and you couldn't blame him.

"I'm here to offer you a job" was stating miss Dowling.

"What kind of job?" you asked, finishing your beer and shouting "Another, please! And a couple more shots for the lady!"

"Coming!" shouted back the bartender as miss Dowling protested that she'd already had more than enough.

"Oh, please" you replied. "Not from what I heard."

"And, pray tell, what did you hear?" she said, straightening her back.

"Rumors has it you could hold your liquor... and knew exactly how to have a good time in old Alfea" you smirked.

"I don't know who told you these absurdities, but even if they were true, that would be thirty years ago."

"Hm. Something tells me you could still outdrink most of the magical population" you insinuated, using that lower, flattering tone of voice that seemed to open all the doors.

"Well, I didn't come here to get drunk, especially not with you, I'm far too-"

Your hand run to her mouth, and you covered her lips with your fingers. "I really hope that sentence wasn't going to finish with 'old', 'cause that would be crazy. Come on," you pressed as you stood up and grabbed the glasses from the bartender's tray, "just a couple more. Don't make me drink alone."

You leaned over her to place the shots on the table and you intentionally brushed your breasts against her arm. You could see from the color creeping up her neck that her body was responding all too well to your actions.

You sat down again and she discretely shifted in her seat.

You took a long draught from you glass, amused, and watched her swallow her first shot in one go. So much for being unaccustomed to drinking.

"So" you said, smiling. "Tell me more about this job."

"I want you to infiltrate Alfea" she started, seriously. "I have to take the school back, and I will need someone working from the inside if I'm to succeed."

You looked at her with interest. That was not what you were expecting.

"That shouldn't be too hard. I guess I could offer to teach a class. No one of your current instructors ever bested me in combat."

"But?"

"What do you mean, but?"

"There was a 'but' at the end of your sentence."