Her aunt and uncle welcomed her in and showed her to the spare bedroom. It was a very lovely home. Hermione eventually gave her the lowdown on the details of how she'd made close friends in the boarding school she attended, her love life with Ron, and how she spends most of her time volunteering in various government offices. Well. That's something you don't hear every day. Being generally uninvolved in politics, she changed the subject. They talked for hours on end about the new medical research that Kat read about. In these times of revolutionary change, there was great excitement in the air. The two girls spent the first night watching a DVD marathon of arguably the best TV drama, ER. At first Hermione wasn't very into it but as it progressed, they laughed, cried, and watched tensely together.
Kat's first shift at the clinic wasn't to start for another few days, an adjustment period, so she spent most of that time with Hermione. On the third night, she wanted to introduce her to her friends at a nearby pub. It was supposedly casual so she went in jeans. Upon arriving, it was obvious by the crowding that most people enjoyed a drink on a weeknight. They sat at the bar and ordered something light. Taking in the scene, someone caught her eye.
Tall, dark, and damnably handsome. He had these steely grey eyes, a cool expression, and shoulder length dark hair. He was dressed a gentleman but looked like trouble. Oh yes, her thoughts immediately swan dived into the deep, dark murky gutters of attraction. She looked down at the beer and back up, unable to help herself. He was headed this way.
"Harry and Ron can't make it. A new case came up. They sent me to tell you." There was something unfathomable in his expression, and considering how Hermione was looking at him, there seemed to be some kind of unspoken communication.
"What kind of case?" Blinking, she asked the younger girl, "Are they police officers? Is it dangerous?"
Hermione nodded slowly but didn't offer an explanation. The man took a seat beside Hermione.
She reached across to shake his hand. She'd been so distracted by his face, admittedly a moment of weakness, that when she grasped his larger, rougher hand, the strong grip had caught her by surprise. There goes all that interview sturdy hand shake practice from three years ago. Her touch had been feather light by comparison to his. Withdrawing her hand, she glanced at Hermione.
"I'm Hermione's cousin, Katherine Daring."
"Sirius Black, at your pleasure."
Had it been anyone else, she would have laughed at the cheesiness of the introduction. Elbow on the bar, she leaned into her hand and peered at him with an almost shy smile. "So, are you a police officer too?"
He chuckled, a small shake of his head. "No, I don't work right now. Do you?"
The fact he didn't give a specific occupation should have put her off. Instead, she gave a shrug, "Not right now."
"And what brings you to England, Miss Daring?"
"God, no please, none of those formalities. No one calls me Miss Daring except… well, no one." She offered what she hoped was a friendly smile, "Call me Kat."
With clear discomfort, Hermione interjected, "Kat, this is Harry's godfather. Sirius, Kat is still in medical school. She's only 24. Now stop flirting in front of me. It's perfectly nauseating."
Flushed with embarrassment, Kat immediately clamped a hand over the girl's mouth. "Hermione, darling, isn't there that age old adage of 'children should be seen and not heard'? And people say Americans are rude. I could have spent the whole night making jokes like 'would you like some tea, gov'ner' which makes a lot of sense now that I see how obsessed British people are with tea. Don't make fun of my fake British accent, I know it's terrible." Babbling was a one of her deadliest vices. She trailed off with a mortified laugh.
Hermione yanked herself free. Her voice was shrill with annoyance, "If you'll excuse me, I have to make a call," and with a huff, stormed off in the direction of the bathroom. Sirius, on the other hand, had a wide amused grin plastered across his face like he was having his week made. Having embarrassed herself to the point of no redemption, she now had to drown her sorrows in tequila shots and ice cream and good old ER when she gets back. "Mister Bartender, two double shots of tequila please."
"We don't have tequila here, Miss American."
Her head dropped onto her arm on the bar. She raised her other hand, palm up, to stop Sirius from what he was surely going to say. "Don't. This, Sirius, is called a pity party. It's a party of one so you can't be invited."
"Not even if I offer tequila as a gift?"
She lifted her head, brows tugged down, and looked at the flask in his hand. "You carry tequila in a flask?" She sounded incredulous as she accepted it from him. "I didn't take you for a tequila man." This was a man her cousin trusted, therefore she could trust him. Sniffing lightly, taking in that familiar aroma, she took a long swallow of it. The familiar burn was relaxing even as the taste made her face pinch.
"What do you take me for, if you don't mind me asking?"
She paused to evaluate him in the same cold, objective manner she would make a diagnosis. "A man who was brought up with everything he could ever want but I bet anything you rebelled against all that. You're sophisticated even when you don't think you are. Unfairly good looking now so definitely a lady killer back in the day. Dark and mysterious." She smiled a small, secret smile. "Maybe even a little dangerous. The type to kill a man if you had to." Holding his dark gaze, she bathed in the delicious intensity that sparked fire in her belly. Or maybe that was the tequila.
She shrugged casually, her smile turning benign. She dropped the intensity of his gaze, no longer comfortable holding it. She took another mouthful of tequila. "Just kidding. You come off as a scotch or whiskey kind of guy."
"You're right. I should have expected family of Hermione would be as clever."
She frowned. "I am?"
"I do prefer whiskey."
She nodded, thinking that of everything that had been fairly easy guess.
"And I am quite good looking."
She physically choked on the third mouthful. She got up from the bar stool, holding out the flask to him, as she turned to (run) walk away. "You know what, I should go check on Hermione. Can't leave her crying all night that she couldn't meet up with her boyfriend."
He caught her wrist instead. She appraised him warily while he spoke, "I don't believe she's crying in there and neither do you."
"No?" Her heart was racing. It was such a simple touch and yet he managed to reel her closer.
"No." He had scruffy little hairs on his face she just wanted to rub her cheek raw against. His voice came out in a quiet rumble, "You really don't live up to your name, Daring."
She cleared her throat. "I am logical and practical." Breathing seemed to be difficult to remember just then. "I think before I leap."
"Isn't the phrase 'look before you leap'?"
Her voice didn't sound like her own anymore. It was breathy and low. "No, I'd get too scared. I'm terrified of heights." She pulled away from him.