GOOD DOG || Sirius Black

(EPILOGUE: FINALE)

"The fact that we live at the bottom of a deep gravity well, on the surface of a gas-covered planet going around a nuclear fireball ninety million miles away and think this to be normal is obviously some indication as to how skewed our perspective tends to be."
-Douglas Adams

{===}

The thing about Manchester Airport is that by the time you get there after a fourteen hour flight, you really don't care about the fact that you're home, or hearing actual non-posh British accents again. You also don't care about passport control, especially when the new passport-checking machines can't scan you properly so you have to go to the special line for special people who don't have faces.

So, of course, by the time Alex Fawley made it past the desk with the balding man who presumably worked in the English people aisle because he had such a strong Manchester accent that no one else could possibly understand him, she was exhausted. And the one person she was not expecting to see waiting for her on the other side, holding up a sheet of A4 with 'FAWLEY' Sharpie-d onto it, was Sirius Black. 

She pulled up short, plain white suitcase slamming into her heels, shortly followed by the boy who had been following her, lugging a case of his own.

"Shit!" The boy cursed, before hurriedly covering his tracks, "I mean, sorry, Al."

Alex recovered herself quickly, "It's fine, Clark. My fault. I just... Saw someone I wasn't expecting."

"The guy with the hair?" Clark had noticed Sirius, eyes narrowed behind his thick glasses as he scrutinised the thick font spelling out his boss's name, "So... Not a taxi driver, then?"

"No." Alex just about internalised a grin, "But do me a favour and tell him that's what you thought he was."

Clark glanced at her, "Who is he?"

"Fawley!" Sirius apparently got bored of waiting for her, jogging over with a ridiculously satisfied smirk on his face, "It's been a while."

"Not long enough." Alex turned to her assistant, answering his questioning look, "Clark, this is my ex-boyfriend."

Clark immediately switched to looking terrified and mildly awkward, "Oh."

"And that," Alex pointed past the two boys to where a balding, late-forties man was holding up a different sign which read 'ALEX FAWLEY', "Is our actual taxi driver."

"Oh." Clark said again.

Alex dragged a hand down her face. This was really not fair on her assistant, "Clark, why don't you take the taxi back home, charge it to the office, and I'll see you on Monday?"

Clarke agreed readily, shooting only a couple of furtive glances over his shoulder as he tripped over to the taxi driver, who looked about ready to leave of his own accord. Alex turned to face Sirius, who smiled angelically.

"C'mon, Black." She snorted, and shoved one of the camera bags she'd been lugging since the flight to his chest, "We can do this at my place."

It was round the corner by the toilets that there was an open enough area to grab Sirius' arm and disappear.

CRACK!

They landed outside the front door of her flat.

"I love being home." Alex smiled as she fumbled for her key, glancing at the dark haired bloke sulking next to her, "How are the others?"

"Ex-boyfriend?" Sirius inquired moodily.

Alex sighed as she pushed the door open, "We got away with it, didn't we? I'm meant to hate the lot of you."