Just One Drink

[Cadence MacFusty]

January 5, 1883

It shouldn't of happened. William had promised to protect their mother, he promised that to her when their father died. And yet in a day's time she'd be saying her goodbye's to the sole woman that cared for her more than life itself.á

It still hadn't hit Cadence that she was an orphan, and that she was completely in her brother's grasp.

Grumbling about the fact that her brother had forced the chaperon to not leave Cadence alone for a moment, she bribed the not-so-much older woman to accompany her to the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade. She had never been to the town before, but now that she was going to wind up being forced to stay she figured it'd be a good time to check out the local haunts.

She desperately wanted together trashed like she would have had she been at home or somewhere equally as private. The bars she normally went to in France knew of her habits by now, and though she worked for their ministry she frequent times got drunk with the guys. Cady was sure such days were over. Her brother was going to keep such a tight hold on her that she'd be lucky if he didn't strangle her.

The pub was crowded, and the only empty seats in the house were at the far end of the bar next to a massive form of a man. Tucking an eternally lose strand of hair behind her ears, Cady pulled her chaperon through the crowd and sat herself next to the tall man. Unfortunately for her, though, the bartender was working on the far side of the bar and would likely not see her in the darkened corner. "Miss Honeysett, might we go to Rosa Lee? I don't feel quite safe here." Her chaperon urged and looked anxiously around the room. "Oh hush." Cady retorted. "We're here to have a few drinks and then we'll go wherever you please. If the bloody bartender would ever come down here."

  

[Torquil MacFusty]

It was amazing how well wee man eating dragons could hide in mountains they weren't properly native to. These were South American dragons and had no business in the British Isles. Hebridean Blacks or Welsh Greens would have been what would be expected in the Isles, not Peruvian Viperteeth.



While Tor felt responsible, along with his twin, for removing the nest of non-native dragons, he was hardly going to run himself ragged over it when the nest had been there since God only knew when and they hadn't been attacking the village. Nothing foul was going to happen if he took a wee bit to get himself a drink.



As he sat nursing his firewhiskey (Ogden's Old, and nothing else for a descendant of Ogden Cockburn) a wee lady came in and planted herself beside him at the bar. Tor glanced over at her as she argued with her chaperon, pondered ignoring her presence, then turned to give her a lopsided grin. "Don' worry, I'm certain he'll be down in two shakes of a dragon's tail."

  

[Cadence MacFusty]

That accent was among one of the few that still effected Cady's swooning capabilities. She'd been wooed by Frenchmen, Italians, and Spaniards mostly, but there had been the occasional American (whether they be from North or South) Chinese man, or even a Russian once. None of those accents ever measured up to the Scots though, none. Scotfolk were who raised Cadence. She went to school there. She knew Scots.

The only thing she missed about England ever was the fact that she lost her Scottish twinge over the past almost six years. Otherwise she didn't miss the cold country one bit.

Ignoring her chaperon's incessant nagging, Cady returned the large man's grin and took note of his kilt. Macfusty. She realized immediately and her grin broadened even more. "A Macfusty, are ya? Related to Mac Macfusty?" She asked, already partially knowing the answer. He had to at least know Mac. The Macfustys' were a large bunch, but they were close knit. She remembered that much.

  

[Torquil MacFusty]

The girl — a rather pretty wee redhead — apparently recognized him. "Aye, Mac is my brother," he confirmed. He wasn't really certain why she recognized him, nor where she knew Mac from, but there were just too many brothers to keep track of all their friends or their ladies.



"M'name's Torquil," he said, "but most call me Tor. I take it you and Mac are — ah, close?" No, Mac had just had a baby. Named her Isabel or something boring like that, and was married up to the mother. So this had to be a previous lady, or maybe just a friend.

  

[Cadence MacFusty]

"Tor, eh? I'm Cadence Honeysett, but just call me Cady. Everyone does." Cady was better than Candy, which she'd been dubbed by her lover from so many years ago. She could still hear him calling out "Oh Candy, so sweet!" when he was beyond trashed. Merlin, how had she'd been ever attracted to such trash?

Spaniards. They were all big lumps of turd.

Glancing down the bar briefly for the bartender (it had to have been longer than two dragon tail shakes) she quickly returned her gaze to his eyes--his gorgeous, brown eyes--and chuckled at his suggestion. "Close? Not in the sense that you Macfustys are so accustomed to." Cady teased, "I was a year below him in Gryffindor. We bonded over our 'Scottish heritage'. Didn't he just have a baby, anyway? Isabel I think her name is."

  

[Torquil MacFusty]

"Tha's right," Tor said. Isobel, not Isabel. Still boring. "His wife's from Spain." That was it, Mac's new little family was Roxana and Isobel and there'd probably be another little MacFusty on the way soon. That was the way it worked — for all that they took care of the Hebridean Blacks, the MacFusty clan was like a bunch of rabbits. It was probably a good thing as a lot of them died young.



"It's nice t'meet you, Cady. Let's see about getting you a drink, eh?" And never mind that her chaperon kept giving him dirty looks. Raising a large hand, Tor waved the bartender over. "What's ye poison?"

  

[Cadence MacFusty]

Cady gave a huff at the mention of his wife being from Spain. "Bloody Spaniards." She grumbled, "I lived in Spain for a little bit. They're all turds, the lot of them. Their language is beautiful, but the people I came across were horrid." She wasn't normally this open about her past in Spain, in fact she was never open about it. Cady hated thinking about him almost as much as she hated the idea of going home and realizing all over again that her mother was dead.

The atmosphere in the bar was noticeably shifting to the point where Cady was certain her chaperon was going to drag her out at any given moment, and she was suddenly glad that a friendly man was sitting next to her. If something did happen, well at least then he may protect her. Maybe, who knew. Maybe he was the person she ought to have been fearing.

"Whatever you're havin', I'm not fussed." This much was true. Throughout her travels Cady had to become accustomed to a wide variety of alcohol. She could drink just about anything and have it be fine, just not anything from Russia. Their liquor was too strong for her stomach to handle.

  

[Torquil MacFusty]

Tor nodded, then glanced at his glass. "Two Ogden's Old Firewhiskey," he said. He paid the bar tender, then slid one of the drinks to the redhead beside him. Things were getting tenser, and Tor rolled his shoulders slightly and felt the reassuring weight of his broadsword on his back. He might be a wizard and more than adept with his wand, but few people would bother someone with a sword that was near four and a half feet long.



"So what brings ye back to Scotland?" he asked casually. He was only half paying attention to her now, as he shifted his attention to the room without turning to it. For someone used to rogue dragons, a room full of drunks was child's play.

  

[Cadence MacFusty]

Cady carefully picked up the drink, but she didn't drink it quite yet. How late was it? She had thought that she had at least another hour until the place became too rowdy. But she didn't. The place was becoming rowdy now and she wasn't sure whether or not she'd make it to the door without landing square in the middle of a fight. "Thank you." He didn't have to buy her drink, but it was nice that he had all the same.

"Drink your drink quickly, Miss Honeysett, and then we are leaving." Her chaperon hissed at her and gestured to the room full of potentially violent men. Cadence was sure now, though, that if someone were to attack her Tor would help her. Wouldn't he? "A couple of drunk men aren't going to do me any harm." She mumbled in response, hopefully too low for Torquil to hear. "Either drink your drink now or don't, but we are leaving as soon as there's an opening in the crowd. Don't forget to thank him for your drink." The widowed woman retorted, causing Cady to quickly down the liquor purchased for her.

Turning back to Torquil, Cady frowned slightly and gestured slightly to the rowdy drunks, "I'll have to answer that question another day, my chaperon seems to think that I can't handle myself in a room of drunks." She told him unhappily. "But thank you for my drink, perhaps we can do this again sometime."

  

[Torquil MacFusty]

"Perhaps," Tor said, although he did not really think it would happen. It was probably a good thing that she was leaving, because the crowd was starting to take a rowdy turn. It was no place for a lady.



"It was lovely to meet you, Cady," he said as he swirled his drink in his glass. "I hope you have a lovely day."