All of This
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, don't own the restaurant. I do own Adrienne, but she's not important in the slightest to this story.
A/N: I know nothing about the geography of London except what my cousin Christian (who lives there tells me). I've never been so if you notice anything amiss, let me know.
A/N 2: The title comes from the song All of This (Robert Smith [of The Cure] & blink-182), which I was listening to while writing this. At first, it was in line with the lyrics (She's all I need/She's all I dream/She's all of this/But I'm always wanting you), but since Angie has already screwed Fred over for someone else in WtWS (a couple of times), I thought he could use the break. Since the song doesn't really fit the story anymore, leave me some better names in your reviews.
A/N 3: And before you bring it up, Faye, I'm almost done with chapter four of OAS. It should be posted sometime within the next couple of days.
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Fred Weasley strolled into Weasley Wizard Wheezes at 10:00 AM, two hours late. His twin brother George glared at him. Apparently, being the Saturday before the new Hogwarts term started, it had been a very busy morning.
"Where have you been all day? You left the flat early this morning and you waltz in here two hours late like it's normal?" George asked angrily.
"Sorry bro. I was out shopping."
"Shopping?! You left me alone on the busiest day of the year because you were shopping?!"
"Well, yeah."
"And just what was so damn important that buying it was worth showing up late?"
"This," Fred answered. He pulled a black velvet box out of his robe pocket and opened it. George found himself staring at the most breathtaking ring he had ever seen in his life. It was an emerald surrounded by six diamonds encased in a platinum setting.
George gave a low whistle. "That looks pretty expensive. You planning on proposing to Angelina or something?"
"Yeah. I can't wait to see the look on her face when I pop the question. This thing cost me 250 Galleons (A/N: about $1817.50 US), but Angie's worth every Knut and more."
George sighed. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Fred."
"And just why not?" his brother asked indignantly.
"Because she'll say no."
"What makes you think she'll turn me down?"
"Because she will. The very first thing she told you when you started going out was that she didn't want a committed relationship. Now you're talking about the ultimate commitment. Not only will she NOT marry you, she'll break it off completely." Which may not be such a bad thing, he added to himself.
Fred opened his mouth in response, but was interrupted by a flood of customers. He gave George a 'This conversation is not over' look. It didn't matter, though. By the time all the customers filed out, it was lunchtime and George Disapparated, telling Fred not to wait up.
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12:15 PM…
Angelina Johnson sat in her office in North London. An Arithmancy whiz in school, she turned down the chance to play professional Quidditch for four teams (the Holyhead Harpies, Appleby Arrows, Puddlemere United, and Chudley Cannons) in favour of becoming an accountant. At twenty-three, she was the CEW of a billion Galleon-a-year firm with offices located in the UK, Canada, Grand Cayman and Australia. The UK and Grand Cayman branches even had locations in the Muggle world as well. And she had just received an owl from her cousin Adrienne, who had closed a deal to open a branch in the States. No wonder Witch Weekly named her the most influential witch in Britain. Life was good.
In her professional life, anyway. In her personal life, she had a bad feeling about her relationship with Fred. Or rather, her lack of a relationship with Fred. She got what she wanted: a no-strings-attached, open relationship, which left the both of them free to see whomever they wanted. But it felt like he was getting too attached to her. And a recent conversation with Alicia Spinnet (her best friend as well as oldest client) revealed that he wasn't dating anyone else. "It's my own fault," she mused aloud. "I shouldn't have stuck around this long." A smile crept upon her face, before she willed it away. "No matter how good the sex is."
As Angelina looked out the window, her stomach began to rumble and she realised that it was almost time for her weekly business meeting with her staff. Even though normally the young accountant would Apparate to S & M, it was such an uncharacteristically nice day outside that she decided to make the short walk to Notting Hill.
Almost as soon as Angelina's Prada shoes hit the pavement she found herself on the ground. And looking into the eyes of the person who collided with her, she found herself face-to-face with George Weasley.
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George looked back at Angelina. Merlin she's beautiful, he thought. Why did I ever let her go? Unfortunately, the expression on Angelina's face indicated that she was not thinking the same thing. Instead, the look clearly said 'I do not have time for this, Weasley.'
"Angelina. Just the person I wanted to see," he said brightly.
"George. To what do I owe this visit?" she asked back curtly.
So she's still bitter, he thought. "We need to talk, Lina."
"Don't call me that!" she snapped.
"Fine. We need to talk, Angelina."
"What about?"
"You and Fred."
"Can't it wait? I have a business meeting."
"New client?"
"No. Staff meeting."
George grabbed her arm. "Then you can spare an hour to talk to a friend."
Angelina yanked her arm from George's grasp. "I own the bloody company, George. It wouldn't do for me to ask everyone to be there and then ditch. We can talk later."
"Name the time and place."
"5:00. My place."
Of course. At her flat, we'd be on her terms. A home-court advantage, so to speak. "Which one?"
"Which what?"
"Which one of your flats. You have several, you know."
George could see the wheels turning in Angelina's head. After all, she didn't want people to hear her inevitable argument with George. That ruled out her flat in posh Notting Hill. She had a date with Fred that night so the one in Grand Cayman was out. So, that left….
"Cambridge."
He touched a finger to her cheek. She slapped it away and he smirked. You know you liked that, Lina, he thought. Instead he said, "See you then."
Angelina gave George a disgusted look before running off in the direction of S & M. He gave a little laugh. It amazed him that she could run in a business suit and four-inch heels. But if he had his way, she wouldn't be wearing that serious shit anyway. He sighed. He missed the old Angelina, the one who used to go pranking with him, who loved Quidditch as much as he did, who loved to be called 'Lina'. The one who loved him. Somewhere, deep down, that Angelina still existed and George vowed to find her.
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Another influx of customers stormed into the shop. Normally Fred loved days like this, but right then he was cursing whoever was responsible for giving him George as a twin. I'm going to kill him when he gets back, he thought with an angry growl.
As the shoppers walked up and down the aisles of WWW (as the store was commonly called), Fred played with the ring in his pocket. Finally, he pulled it out of his robes and stared at it. His brother's words echoed in his head. "What if he's right?"
"What if who's right?" a feminine voice said in front of him. He looked up into the peaches-and-cream face of Alicia Spinnet.
"Leesh!" he squealed (God, I sound like a girl, he thought to himself.) and hugged her. "What are you doing here?"
"You seemed to be busy and I didn't see George anywhere so I thought you might need some help running the shop."
Fred looked around the crowded store. "Yeah, I do."
Ever the tomboy, Alicia launched herself over the counter. "You didn't answer my question."
Fred turned red, embarrassed that he had to spill his thoughts to Angelina's best friend. "I was planning on proposing to Angie tonight." He didn't notice Alicia's eyes glaze over with worry. "And George thinks she won't say 'yes' to me."
Alicia sighed. "I know you don't want to hear it, Fred, but I'm afraid George is right." Fred looked at her with his eyes blazing. "I should know; I spend more time with her than anyone else."
"I don't believe you people. Angelina loves me."
"No, she doesn't." Seeing as Fred was about two seconds from strangling her, Alicia thought she had better explain the situation. "Angelina can't love you because Angelina doesn't believe in love."
Fred looked at his friend in disbelief while they rang up items for the customers that approached the register. "What do you mean she doesn't believe in love?"
"I meant precisely what I said. She had her heart broken once and afterwards decided that love was a load of dragonshit." She saw the look in Fred's eye. "Hey, I told her that there were plenty of fish in the sea, but she doesn't believe it. Hell, I'm amazed she stayed with you this long; she usually doesn't date someone longer than a week."
They continued ringing up items in silence, the question hanging over their heads. Finally, Fred gave in and asked Alicia. "Do you know who it was? The person who broke Angelina's heart?"
Alicia sighed again. "I think Angie should be the one to tell you that."
"But you know who it is."
Another sigh. "Yes, I do."
Fred opened his mouth to ask Alicia who could hurt his Angel so badly, but the look on Alicia's face told him to drop it. So they continued to ring up items in silence, while Fred decided to be a little early for his date with Angelina that night. They had a few things to discuss.
And Alicia, seeing the determined expression on Fred's face, thought it best to warn Angelina. If Angie went to Azkaban for murdering Fred (or George, as she was sure he was somewhere trying to convince the poor girl not to marry Fred), she didn't just lose a best friend; she'd lose a damn good accountant. And who else was going to keep track of her finances? Certainly not Fred, George, Lee, or Katie; they all entrusted Angelina with their bookkeeping. Who did it for free. Somehow she doubted any other accountant at Johnson & Johnson Finance (A/N: Angelina & Adrienne) would grant them that favour.
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A very out of breath Angelina reached the doors of Sausage and Mash Café (more commonly known as S & M). Quickly, she pulled out her wand and freshened up before walking in the doors. She adored this place, despite the fact that she was a strict vegetarian; it was everything she used to be. A little bit of tackiness and simplicity in the heart of London's 'in' neighbourhood.
She looked down at her clothes. Overdressed as usual. That's it, she though. This is the last day I work Saturdays. She headed straight towards her usual table in the back, closest to the kitchen. The other accountants (minus Adrienne, who was still in New York) who worked at the two locations in Britain were already there, sipping their coffees. Like her, they were overdressed and overworked. Yep, this was definitely the last Saturday that the firm would be open; they all needed a vacation. Send them all fruit baskets for their hard work, Angelina mentally noted.
"Hi everyone," she greeted in her usual cheery manner. It was hard since her feet were killing her. Ugh. There was a time when you couldn't even convince me to wear these things.
"Hello Angelina," they answered back in unison.
"I'd like to extend a welcome to our newest team member, Brandon Fox." She gave the handsome, green-eyed blonde a smile. She could see the lustful look in his eyes and it almost made her rethink her and Adrienne's policy on dating accountants at their firms. But we're their bosses and it wouldn't do to mix business with pleasure, she thought. She looked at Brandon again. No matter how pleasurable it could be. "And as is the custom, the new guy buys lunch." The desire instantly turned to horror. "Don't worry. We always get the same thing: three Desperate Dans." She almost laughed at the relief that washed over his face.
The twenty accountants talked shop and ate for a while until Angelina made her big announcement. "Starting the week after next, you no longer have to work Saturdays. Crunching numbers is exhausting and tedious work so I don't blame you for being tired." The table erupted in a chorus of cheers and she held up her hand to silence them. "If you choose to work or you have appointments, I understand completely. I'm just letting you know that if you don't want to show up on Saturdays, don't." She took a deep breath before she began again. "How many of you have appointments scheduled for next week?" No one answered. "Good. You're all off for the week." And as her staff cheered, she dropped her share of the tip on the table and walked out the door.
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Alicia Apparated into Angelina's flat in Notting Hill after leaving WWW at four. She needed to talk to her. Urgently. "Oi, Angie! "Come down here! I need to talk to you! It's important!" When Angelina didn't answer, she stomped upstairs. "I'm serious, Angelina! This is a pressing matter that needs your attention!" Angelina still didn't answer.
It finally became evident that her best mate was not at home. Then it her. Alicia slapped her forehead in realisation. It was Saturday. Angelina crashed at her cousin's old place in Cambridge on the weekends. She said the atmosphere there was more relaxing than the elitist facade her flat in Notting Hill presented. And Alicia had to agree with her. No one would guess Adrienne Johnson-Parker was the same no-nonsense woman who was Vice-President and COW of Johnson & Johnson Finance just by looking at her bachelorette pad. It had a Bohemian feel to it, which fit Adrienne's free-spirited personality perfectly. I remember when Ange was like that, Alicia thought sadly.
She let out a bitter laugh as she set on the king-size waterbed in Angelina's bedroom. "She doesn't know how good she has it. Any woman would be willing to lead her life."
Instantly she felt sorry for saying those words. Angelina deserved to be happy more than anyone she knew. But she really didn't know how lucky she was. Fred wanted to marry her and Alicia was pretty sure that George still had some feelings for her. And Alicia…
Alicia just wanted to love Angelina the way that she deserved to be.
But she knew that would never happen for several reasons, the main one being that Angelina was most emphatically NOT gay. That was a fact that led to Angelina having as little contact with her mother as possible. Angelina's mother, a housewife of forty-two, just couldn't fathom any other reason why her pretty twenty-three year-old daughter didn't have a husband. Sure Alicia wished Angie was a lesbian, or at least experimenting, but it wasn't going to happen anytime in this lifetime.
Secondly, not only was Angelina as straight as a bloody arrow, she cared about Fred a lot more than she let on. And though Alicia would never say it out loud to her best friend, she suspected that Angelina might even love him. But Angie would never admit it, saying that love was 'rubbish' or something equally off-putting. Besides, there was that part of Angelina that hated George, which might have hindered her relationship with his twin brother.
Alicia blamed Angelina's split with George (which she had never spilled all for Alicia) for all the unAngelina-like decisions that she made after it. Like giving up on love. Or becoming disinterested in Quidditch. Or… Her mind wandered to the worst day of her life. The day she found Angelina in the shower, blood pouring from her wrists. It was about a month after she and George had broken up and earlier that day Angelina had been unhappier than usual. But tough, headstrong, brilliant, talented, independent Angelina would never have resulted to suicide to solve her problems. At least not the Angelina she knew.
Alicia looked up in the mirror. She'd been crying. Thankfully, the mirror in Angelina's bedroom wasn't a magical mirror. She didn't want to think about what it would have said to her to if it had been. With a wave of her wand, her eyes were no longer red and puffy and her make-up and hair were back in place. "Well, off to the land of beanbags and beads for doors," she said, referring to Angelina's weekend residence. Then she Disapparated with a loud 'pop'.
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Fred looked at the Muggle clock waiting for 5:00. That was the time that Adrienne and Angelina closed down all the firms worldwide. He shook his head. How on earth someone could work during teatime was beyond him. Especially on a Saturday.
He thought back to his conversation with Alicia that afternoon. Angelina heart had been broken… Well that certainly explained a lot of the changes she went through. Like suddenly hating Quidditch. Or not wanting to be in a committed relationship. He assumed she was just growing up and wanted to explore her options. But now that he thought about it, the Angelina he was dating was nothing like the Angelina he knew at school.
He wished Alicia had told him who the guy was that broke her heart. Or at least how. But all that was in the past. He was Angelina's present, and hopefully, her future. But they needed to talk before their rendezvous that night. He'd see her at Adrienne's old bachelorette pad.
The clock struck five and Fred stood up. He walked towards his fireplace, grabbed some floo powder, and stepped in, shouting, "Angie's weekend flat!"
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George Apparated into Angelina's bedroom at her Cambridge flat. He loved this apartment already. It was a glimpse of the old Angelina. An organised mess, she used to call it back at school. Quidditch posters, books, parchment and quills strewn about. It was like seventh year all over again. Minus that Umbridge hag. Then he remembered. Technically, this wasn't Lina's flat; it was her cousin's. Angelina's apartment was lavishly decorated and situated in Notting Hill. With all the snobby Muggles. He shuddered. The Muggle equivalent of the Malfoys. She couldn't stand wizards like that. What on earth possessed her to live near Muggles with the same personality traits?
He flopped unto the bed. So soft. He fantasised about making love to Angelina on that bed. He imagined her writhing underneath him, begging him not to stop. And he wouldn't; he'd make love to her for hours, until they were both exhausted. He smiled in spite of himself. Soon it wouldn't just be his imagination.
He looked at the clock on the desk. Instead of the usual magical clocks, Adrienne and Angelina had special ones that didn't just say they were at 'work'; theirs told which branch they were at. Angelina's hand pointed to 'UK, Wizarding.' He knew that all the firms closed promptly at 5:00, so she should be here any second. As if on cue, he heard a very loud 'pop'.
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Alicia landed on a bright blue beanbag chair in the corner of Angelina's living room in Cambridge. Ironically, it was her (Alicia's) beanbag. For some reason, this made her chuckle. Adrienne used to call this the 'Girls Corner.' It was where she, Angelina, Katie and Adrienne would sit, eat ice cream, and just dish. Do girly things. Adrienne's beanbag was purple (the colour of royalty), Katie's was a sunny yellow, and Angelina's… Angelina's was black. By that time, it had become her signature colour.
As Alicia was reminiscing, she wasn't aware of the green flames coming from the fireplace behind her or of the person stepping out of them. That is until he tapped her on the shoulder. "Leesh? What are you doing here?"
Alicia stifled a scream and slowly turned her head around. After she recognised Fred's face, she let put the breath she was holding. "I should ask you the same question. Your date with Angie isn't for another three hours."
"I needed to talk to her."
"So did I."
They stood (well, Fred stood; Alicia was still sitting on her beanbag chair) there in awkward silence for a few moments. And in that silence they could hear voices from the top of the stairs. To be exact, Angelina's distinct voice and George's deeper one.
Damn. He got to her first, Alicia thought.
At the same time, Fred was thinking, 'What the hell is George doing here?' Out loud, he said, "Can you make out what they're saying?" Alicia shook her head. "Well, you know, George and I improved the Extendable Ears design. I brought a couple with me. We can hear everything from down here." And he pulled out two strings and gave one to Alicia. They watched them snake up the stairs and towards Angelina's bedroom door.
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Upstairs…
"I've been waiting for you," George smirked as his ex-girlfriend Apparated into her bedroom. Angelina took one look where George was reclining and moved to the doorway that led to her bathroom. "You don't have to do all that, Lina. I won't hurt you."
Angelina's brown eyes blazed chocolate fire. "No, but I may hurt you, George. Now make this quick. I have a date with Fred tonight."
"That's why I'm here. He's going to propose tonight."
Angelina laughed. (Fred: What's so damn funny about that? I love her.) "That may be the funniest thing you've ever said to me, George."
"I'm serious, Lina. He showed me the ring this morning."
"One: I don't believe you. He knows where we stand. It's just about the sex. And two: even if I did believe you, I still don't see what it has to do with you."
"Everything, Angelina. I'm not going to stand by and watch the woman I love marry my brother."
Angelina let out a bitter and caustic laugh. "You love me, George? Now that's a laugh."
"Yes, I love you." He got up and walked towards her. "And I think you love me, too."
Angelina took a step back. "I don't believe in love, Weasley. There is only money, power and sex. And I happen to have all three."
"You're not that jaded, Lina."
"I'm not jaded; I'm just being realistic."
"No, you're just being pigheaded."
"You want the truth. Fine. Yes, I was once naïve enough to believe in love. And I had my heart broken by a guy who didn't give a damn about my feeling!" Angelina's last sentence came out in a shout.
"Angelina, I loved you then. Just like I love you now. And I cared about your feelings."
"No, you didn't! If you had, you would have told me you didn't want an exclusive relationship instead of letting me find out the hard way! Four other girls, George! FOUR!" Suddenly her tone of voice changed. "Do you know what that does to an insecure person, George?" He shook his head. "Then I'll tell you. I tried to kill myself and if Alicia hadn't found me before I became unconscious, I'd be dead right now."
"I never meant to hurt you."
"But you did. That's the point. You did. Quidditch held no meaning for me because you were no longer my 'Beater in Shining Armour.' Anything that reminded me of you, I cut off."
George had one question and it was obvious. "What about Fred?"
"He's not you. He hasn't hurt me. Yet. But I always have that feeling deep down inside that he will. Because he's a man and especially because he's your twin." Here she broke down in tears. George hugged her and soothingly rubbed her back. Surprisingly, she didn't push him away. "I care about him so much, but I can't be with him because my trust has been destroyed completely. And in five years, I haven't been able to rebuild it."
"I'm sorry, Lina. I'm so sorry."
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Downstairs…
Fred was furious. "I am going to kill him," he growled. He would've gone up the stairs and hexed his twin to oblivion if Alicia hadn't been holding him back.
"Fred, she wants you. She just confirmed it. Let it go."
"It's not just that. It's also the fact that I never had a clue that they ever dated. We're twins. I'm supposed to know things like that."
"They wanted to keep it a secret. I didn't even know until she came crying on my shoulder after they broke up." Alicia, too, had wanted to AK George at the time, but she felt that Fred didn't need to know that.
"So no one knew at the time?" Fred asked Alicia. Noticing her silence, he repeated himself. "Right?' Still silent. "Who knew? Lee? Katie?" Alicia shook her head to both. "Then who?"
"Ron walked in on them on the way to the kitchens one night."
Fred's face screwed up in disgust and renewed anger. "So Ron knew before me. Well that's just peachy."
Alicia looked at her friend. "Fred, don't kill him. Someone needs to run the shop while you're shagging Angie."
"Damn. You're just as practical as Angie."
"She rubbed off on me."
At that moment, Angelina and George came downstairs, chatting happily. Any indication that Angelina had been crying was gone, as was all evidence of the conversation that had taken place on the floor above.
"Angelina, George, the three of us need to talk…" Fred started, but was cut off by Angelina's lips on his.
"I love you," she whispered when they broke apart.
He had to try it. "Will you marry me?" Fred asked her.
"Of course I will," she answered before kissing him again.
Neither noticed the two loud 'pops' that sounded in the background.
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So what did you all think? 8 ¼ pages, 4428 words. My longest one-shot to date.