"Cummon, Cass," Kingsley yells at me over the walls of his cubicle. I grimace at his use of my nickname, but obediently rise to my feet. "What's up?" I call, navigating the rather cluttered room towards his desk. I hold my breath as I walk by the strange plant Johnson's got growing on his desk- it smells like toenail clippings.

"Regurgitating toilets in Chelsea," he replies.

I stop in my tracks and stare at him. "We got called out for that?"

He shrugs. "It's not ours to reason why-"

"-It's but to do and die," I finish. Sighing, I meander over to stand beside him. "Ok, let's go," I say resignedly.

He holds out an arm, effectively stopping me from stepping forward. "Wait for Black," he instructs.

I raise an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

He frowns, his gold earring glinting and the overhead lights reflecting off of his bald head. "Is there a problem?" he asks, in his slow, deep voice. I shiver.

"Nope," I quip, pretending to tie my shoelace so I don't have to look him in the eye.

Robes rustle behind me as he walks up. "Ready," he says, and when I glance up, no longer able to pretend I am tying my shoe (stay down there too long and they'll begin to wonder how you managed to pass kindergarten, much less the Auror tests), he tips me a wink.

I sigh, resigning myself to a long day of frustration and disappointment. As I follow the two men to the elevator, I feel my face curl into a smile. Perhaps not. I could always drown Black in one of the toilets and make it look like an accident. Today might actually have possibilities.

I squeeze into the elevator, purposely squishing Black's foot with my boot. He yelps in surprise, and I bat my eyelashes at him. "Oh, clumsy me," I say. "New shoes."

He opens his mouth to retort, but Kingsley silences him with a glare. I stifle a giggle, earning a look myself. Kingsley's such a buzz kill.

Black gets his revenge when he pinches me in the side. I jump, biting my lip to keep from crying out. Kingsley doesn't even notice. I turn to glare at the dark-haired man behind me. "Touch me again and you die," I whisper threateningly.

He raises an eyebrow. "Is that a promise or a threat?"

"You better believe it's a promise," I shoot back. I turn back to face the front of the elevator, watching the doors open and allowing Kingsley and Black to exit in front of me. Black stumbles as I stick out my foot to trip him, but regains his balance and shoots me a glare I suppose he thinks is intimidating. This man has got a lot to learn. I'm Fred and George's cousin, for heaven's sake. Annoying people is my specialty. Especially arrogant man-whores.

We Apparate to the building in Chelsea, appearing with a loud pop that makes the other Ministry workers on the site jump. Molly's husband, Arthur Weasley, hurries towards us, polishing his glasses on his robes. He places them back on his nose and blinks at us owlishly. "I don't know what they've done," he admits. "I called you because I've tried everything I can think of."

Kingsley nods. "Show me, Weasley," he commands, and follows Arthur into the building. Black and I follow, careful to walk side by side to ensure the other person doesn't get the advantage. Why couldn't he have stayed in the office and minded his own business? Come to think of it, does it really take three Aurors to stop regurgitating toilets? I eye the back of Kingsley's bald head, wondering what trick he's got up his sleeve.

We enter the bathroom, and I hold my sleeve to my nose in an attempt to block the smell. Who in their right mind would jinx a toilet? Kingsley looks around for a moment before saying, "I think you two can handle this." He ignores my indignant sputter and shakes Arthur's hand. "I'll be at the office if these two cock it up." Arthur grins.

With a loud 'CRACK!', Kingsley Disapparates, leaving the three of us alone in the room. Black has a malevolent grin on his face. My spirits sink. This can only end badly.

"Well," Arthur says, pushing back his sleeves. "I'll leave you two to it, then, shall I?" He hides a smile at the glare I shoot him and hurries out of the bathroom. Black and I are left standing in the empty room, the only sound being the water dripping from the walls.

"Get moving, then," I say, crossing my arms.

He makes a face. "We're supposed to work together."

I shake my head. "No way, I'm senior field agent. Kingsley left me to supervise."

"Oh yeah?" he challenges. "Somehow I missed that part of the conversation."

"Quit picturing me naked and pay attention next time then," I snap.

His lopsided grin returns. "Actually, I was thinking about dinner, but now that you mention it-" He looks me up and down. Seconds later, there's a flash and he's on the ground, a horn growing out of the middle of his forehead.

"Oops," I say serenely. "Temper got the best of me, there."

"Get rid of it," he growls, his handsome face red.

I tilt my head, pretending to study him. "I dunno, Black," I muse aloud. "I think it suits you."

"Get bloody rid of it!" he repeats, clenching his fists.

Rolling my eyes, I wave my wand and the horn vanishes. He stands to his feet and rubs his forehead. "Crazy woman," he mutters.

I frown at him. "Best not make me angry, Black. I've got much worse hexes up my sleeve."

He glares at me from under his shaggy black hair, but wisely keeps his mouth shut. Turning to the bathroom stall, he raises his wand and shouts, "Finite Incantantem!" Nothing happens- except the toilet shoots out a half-hearted jet of water.

I'm laughing so hard I can barely speak. "I'm sure they've already tried that one, fool. Is that the best you can come up with?"

He narrows his eyes. "You do it then."

I wave my wand carelessly, saying, "Commode reparo." The toilet stops gurgling. Black raises an eyebrow. "That's it?"

"Besides cleaning up," I tell him. We frown at each other for a few moments before he gives in, rolling his eyes and flicking his wand. "Scourgify." The water vanishes from the walls and floors, and he crosses his arms. "You really are a pain," he tells me.

I blink at him innocently. "Nice working with you, too."

We Apparate back to Headquarters, and after giving our report to Kingsley, who looks rather smug, we go our separate ways. I sit back down at my desk, dumping packet after packet of Sweet 'N Low into a cup of hot coffee. I'm going to need all the caffeine and sugar I can get to survive this day.