Location: Ministry of Magic, Level 6
Date: 10 February, 1978.
Tagged: @sirgidecnxprewett
Mary forgot to brush her hair that morning, and it seemed like every pissy-faced Ministry snob in this damn place was judging her for it.
Of course, the blonde, wrinkling her nose as she trudged through the bustling building with paper bags of hot and greasy food, refused to acknowledge that the odd looks tossed her way could be from a compilation of many various things – her overly noticeable, nearly obnoxious Muggle attire, or the unlit cigarette impatiently bit between her lips, the camera strapped about her neck and bouncing off her chest with every step, or the rather pervasive aroma seeping from the take away she carried into the lift. But her messy hair, still half in a slept-in braid and half not, she decided, must be the reason for the attention.
Really, she just wanted to get through this damn depressing place to find Gideon and spoil him with some fattening lunch and sweets. The lift dinged. Mary shouldered her way past statuesque employee who wouldn’t get out of her damn way, huffing and puffing and swearing not-so-under her breath. Since childhood, since she was a little girl with little sunlit pigtails and that adorable charming Irish accent exploring the endless corridors when she and her mother visited her father while he worked, she hated this bloody place. Her nose wrinkled again as she turned the corner of the familiar path to Gideon’s office. Of course, she always did have an issue with authority, and she always did get scolded for running down these corridors when she was younger, so perhaps the animosity stuck around.
She didn’t bother knocking on her friend’s office door once she found her way there; knowing Gideon for as long as she had, she figured that come lunchtime, he stopped working anyway. “’Ey, fuckhead!” She called out, pushing the door open wider with her hip, hands holding out and shaking her offering of food, the well-known, tried-and-true way to Gideon Prewett’s heart. She had no ulterior motives whatsoever. Definitely not. Certainly just supplying a good friend with a warm meal, that’s all. How dare he suggest other wise, if he were to suggest otherwise. “Time to take a break, as though you haven’t been doing that practically all morning anyway, yeah?” Snorting a laugh, Mary slopped the bags in front of him on his desk, then plopped herself into one of the wooden, creaky chairs opposite, dangling blue-jeaned legs over one arm and resting her back against the other. She flashed another bold grin. “Look, I brought all your favorites!”
Gideon eyes shifted to the piles of papers stacked on top of his desk. In classic Gideon style, there was zero to no organizational skill applied to what the papers were or where they could be housed, and he honestly didn’t care enough to organize them anyway. He felt himself sigh as he looked at the clock. He somehow had to find something to do for five more hours. He wondered (again) why he was even here in the first place.
Gideon’s head rested precariously on his palm, always one step away from succumbing to the power of the unconscious and falling asleep right then and there. He had to stop himself multiple times from bringing a pillow in from his flat to work with him. He claimed it could be used as a seat cushion, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted to place it on his desk and close his eyes for some much needed shut eye.
As his lids fluttered shut, he was rudely awoken by the familiar Irish drawl of a loved one. He was equal parts aggravated and relieved to see Mary’s face–not that this was anything new. He still wasn’t certain with how Mary got a job at the Ministry or who let her keep it when she dressed and acted the way she did, but Gideon hated how he had to edit himself back for work (among almost everything else he hated about a typical office job) so there was something admirable about Mary in that regard. And no other regards, no, certainly not.
Still, he cringed and smiled when she entered his office with a typical curse. “You know I have coworkers here, right?” Gideon chided, although a smile made its way onto his face somehow. He didn’t know how. “I’ll have you know I signed maybe, like, five papers this morning before I even thought about taking a nap.” He threw a folder to the side to make room for the bags of garbage Mary had brought for them to consume. Lunches with her were without a doubt the highlight of his day. And even if he did enjoy his work, he was sure they would still be the highlight of his day.
“Whatdja bring for us, hm?” He peered into the bag, the smells consuming the walls (and no windows) of his tiny office. In a quick motion, he grabbed the food and the cigarette that still dangled from her lips. “Wait, let’s go outside. I need to get the fuck out of here.” He placed the cigarette between his own lips and practically sprinted to the door for their quick escape.
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