A Magical Roleplaying Experience 

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 #16059  by Natasha Porter
Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter, to warn him...

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Location: A run down industrial district just outside London • Date: 1 September 2022
Time of Day: Approaching midnight • Weather: Unseasonably warm, thunderstorm watch

While the nondescript panel van Tasha had secured was enchanted to remain comfortable even when the engine was off, she was questioning the spellcasting prowess of whoever had ensorceled it as it was growing stiflingly warm inside, especially with two people staking out a supposed werewolf den. The moon, just a day or two from being full, provided bright illumination that waxed and waned as thick clouds rushed past.

She exhaled sharply as she looked down at her wrist and saw that yet another hour had passed with no sign of anyone approaching this supposed hideout.

“Fucking hell,” she swore, reaching into her bag and withdrawing a metal flask and unscrewing it. “Another god damned, dead end.” She took a long pull. “I trust you won’t tattle, and might in fact join me?” she exhaled offering the flask to Reiner.
 #16099  by Reiner Liebhart
Reiner huffed, equally frustrated with the current state of their "steak" out. There was no sign of werewolf activity at this supposed hideout. Hell, there was no sign of any activity in this hideout. Reiner was beginning to think he'd been given bad information - something that was enough to sour his mood on the worst of days. But, somehow, being stuck in this van with Tasha hadn't been so bad. They worked well together, and more importantly they liked each other. Being stuck in this van with, say, Auror Slater would have been hellish. But with Auror Porter? It was actually bearable.

Reiner chuckled at the idea of him tattling and and took the flask, not mentioning his own flask that was currently stowed safely and discreetly in his equipment bag. "Don't mind if I do." He winked before taking his own long pull from the small metal container. "Do you think anyone will actually show up? Or am I going to have to have words with someone about telling stories later?" He glanced wearily in the direction of the building they'd been watching.
 #16181  by Natasha Porter
"Your discretion is greatly appreciated, Liebhart," she smirked, taking back her flask and tucking it back away before staring back out the window for a while longer as his question hung in the van. Her head lolled to the side to regard Reiner in the passenger seat, “Given the way the rest of this year has gone, I’m thinking we already know the answer to that question.”

It had been a rough year for Tasha, with her boss going missing not long after giving her cryptic instructions to keep his family safe, the search for Potter turning up hardly anything but dead ends, her mom getting shot on the job back home, and now, just when she’d about given up on the werewolf angle, Reiner had gotten a lead. Another dead end.

As she regarded him with weary eyes, she couldn’t help but be reminded of just how attractive he was. Beards weren’t usually her thing but damn if he didn’t make the look work. It was just warm enough that they both had a near sheen of light sweat, and it did nothing but highlight the strong lines of his face, and the muscles of his shoulders and upper arms.

No, Tasha. No more work relationships. They always end poorly. Liebhart is a great colleague, a worthy sparring opponent, and a good friend: nothing more.

“Maybe we’re going about this all wrong,” she replied before her staring became too noticeable (too late), “maybe we need to put on a cheap werewolf costume and start pissing on fire hydrants tomorrow night, and see if we can find a mutt that will sniff our butts, become our friend, and then lead us to the rest of the real werewolves.”
 #16874  by Reiner Liebhart
Reiner let his head thump against the headrest and sighed. He hated roughing up contacts who gave him bad intel, but it came with the territory. It made him feel slimy, like a member of a criminal organization instead of a contract worker for the government. But if people thought they would get away with telling him lies in exchange for their "finder's fees", then he's become useless to the ministry and then he'd be out of work. Which, honestly, after this year wasn't sounding so bad. Maybe he'd more seriously consider retirement after they solved Tash'a werewolf thing. If they ever solved Tasha's werewolf thing. At the rate they were going, he'd be dead first. Or that line of though only had Reiner reminding himself that he was too young to retire soon. Even if it didn't feel like it.

Letting his head roll to the side to find Tasha staring at him and swallowed thickly. He knew Tasha was an attractive woman, and under normal circumstances he would have been trying to get her into his bed within hours of meeting her. That was his usual MO, at least. But since they met, Tasha had become more than his colleague. She was his friend - and a good one at that. So he shouldn't be noticing the way the moonlight caught her eyes and made them sparkle, or the curl of her hair over her ears, or the way her mouth moved when she cracked a joke about putting on werewolf costumes and pissing in the streets. But he was, unfortunately.

Reiner had to clear his throat, which he covered with a not-at-all-convincing chuckle, before he could get any words out. "I'm not entirely sure, given that I'm not an expert on the beasts, but I'm thinking that's not how that works." He gave her a wry smile, or at least he tried to. "We'd be better off setting out a couple bowls of dog food and animal traps, likely."
 #18265  by Natasha Porter
Tasha noticed the way he cleared his throat behind that chuckle, and she smirked back at his retort before looking back out the window. Maybe he felt the same way? Was she being stupid denying herself some fun? She wasn't getting any younger and she was too damn lazy about her appearance to care that much about the few streaks of gray, not to mention that she was basically married to her job and that perhaps kept any interested suitors at bay. That's what she kept telling herself at least.

Focus up, Tasha. Just friends. You don't need another Jake. Another Harry.

She chuckled and shook her head again as she pulled out the flask one more time, whistling like one would to call a friendly dog, "Heeeeeeeere Poochie! Here boy! Got you some nice kibble!" She took a long pull after the chuckling subsided.

"You ever seen one transform? Fight one?" she asked, after a pregnant pause.
 #18280  by Reiner Liebhart
Reiner snorted, motioning for her to hand him the flask again. "Can't say I have. Thankfully." He re-situated himself in the seat, trying to get more comfortable. The inside of the van was getting incrementally warmer, or that's what it seemed like at least. Or maybe that was just the sexual tension he hadn't wanted to acknowledge had been following them around for the past few weeks. "You?"
 #18898  by Natasha Porter
“Yeah,” she said after a pregnant pause and another sip of the flask before handing it over to Reiner. “The change is…horrifying.”

Tasha kept staring out the window at the almost full moon hanging low on the horizon. “You want to look away but you can’t. And even if you do, the sounds are just as bad. Screams turning into growls. The sound of bones breaking and rearranging themselves. Muscles and flesh...tearing.”

She looked back over at Reiner. Was he staring at her or just listening to her story?

“My partner back in the States…he probably would have been one after the fight he got into. But the fire got him instead… the things are damn near 300 pounds of muscle and anger and claws and fangs.” Tasha looked back out the window. “The girl that did it couldn’t have been more than 17. The jackass we were hunting down…he’d killed her best friend and kidnapped her, kept her prisoner for weeks. She didn’t know it was coming. That she’d ben bit. He got the drop on us, locked us in a cage with her just in time for the moon to rise.”

The sport coat for her suit was already hanging in the back of the van, but she was still stuck in dress slacks and a blouse and hadn’t had time to change before the stakeout. It was hotter than hell in the van, and she had to do something about it. “It is 800 fucking degrees in here. You get to deal with Tasha in her shitty old tank top now.” She shifted in her seat and started unbuttoning her blouse, tearing her arms free of the sleeves with a sigh of relief. The cami didn’t leave much to the imagination: Tasha was still in incredible shape. Her right arm, which Reiner may have never noticed before, was covered in long-healed burn scar tissue. “Sorry not sorry.”
 #19256  by Reiner Liebhart
Reiner took the flask and shuddered at the thought. It sounded horrifying. He was grateful to have never experienced it. He took a huge gulp of the liquor inside, feeling it warm up his throat on the journey down to his stomach. Suddenly, Reiner felt he needed it. Between the conversation, and his attraction to the woman who was not only his colleague, but his friend, he probably didn't.

She'd just made it through the horrifying story about his old partner, and Reiner had just started digesting it, when her shirt came off. And then Reiner couldn't digest anything. He tried to chuckle, but it came out sounding more strangled than intentioned. Here he was, sitting in a van that was - admittedly - sweltering, talking about Tasha's personal horror stories, while trying to track down a murderous werewolf. And all Reiner could think about was how great her body looked in that tank top. Scar or not, Tasha was a gorgeous woman. And Reiner was Grade-A distracted.

"Don't be sorry" He murmured, taking another long swig from the flask. Too long, probably, to be inconspicuous. Reiner cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. It was definitely hotter in this van than it had been before she took her shirt off. Inspired, and without any theatrics, Reiner stripped down to his under shirt as well. The thin white fabric of his tee was slightly damp - it really was hot in this van - and clung to his body. Sighing in relief, he whipped the sweater into the back of the van. Two could play at that game. "Where'd you get the scar?" he asked, not knowing if she wouldn't want to share. He had his own of course, most of which he wouldn't mind talking about. But none of his were that big.
 #19277  by Natasha Porter
"Same way my partner didn't become a werewolf...fiendfyre is unpredictable. Kills stuff pretty well though. Saved my life..."

Tasha had been watching him out of the corner of her eye as Reiner pulled off his own shirt but after he asked her about his scar she used used it as an excuse to turn and gaze back at him.

Gawk hungrily might be a better word. He was incredible.

She shifted in her seat to more directly face him, biting her lip, ostensibly in thought about whether to elaborate on her answer to the question. She was actually thinking about very, very different things.

"I may do something I'm going to regret, Reiner..." she spoke softly, letting the words hang there for what seemed like an eternity but then swiftly closing the distance between them to plant a firm, hungry kiss on his lips.
 #19441  by Reiner Liebhart
Reiner stared at her, not sure what exactly she meant, but he didn't have a lot of time for incomprehension before her lips were on him.

Oh sweet heaven, were her lips on him.

It was only a half second before what was happening registered and he was kissing her back. This was a bad idea - an absolutely horrible idea - that would surely bite them in the ass faster than a hungry werewolf. But Reiner didn't much care. Instead he forgot about how much he probably shouldn't be kissing Tasha, and just how true her words were, and leaned into the kiss almost desperately. This had been building for months, and the sexual tension was enough to set them ablaze at this point. The arm rest on his seat bit into his side, and Reiner pushed it out of the way without breaking the connection. His hands rose to her neck, and cheek, and he pulled away long enough to mutter "You probably will regret it, but who cares?" before going right back in for more.
 #20099  by Natasha Porter
"Not regretting it yet," she gasped between the kissing. She grabbed at his belt, pulling and tugging him upright and towards the darkened, empty back of the van as she aloud out of her seat, still kissing him hungrily.

She stumbled over her previously discarded shirt as she backed into the rear of the darkened van and fell backwards through the curtains separating the front seat from the back of the van with a yelp, losing grip of Reiner in the process.

As Reiner stood, hunched over between the seats, a slow chortle rose from the back of the van followed shortly by Tasha's wadded up cami (and possibly some other undergarments) flying through the gap of the curtains and hitting him in the face. "Get your ass back here and help me make some more decisions we won't regret," she practically purred.

((fade to black?))
 #20317  by Reiner Liebhart
Her shirt hit his face with a thwack. Reiner chuckled, balling it in his fist before discarding it into the drivers seat. With a shake of his head, he started towards the back of the van. Whether or not she regretted this later, Reiner always had fun making these kinds of mistakes. And with Tasha how much fun this was going to be was never in question.

Pushing the curtain aside, Reiner spotted her and couldn't keep the predatory gleam out of his eyes. "Ma'am, yes ma'am." Oh yes, this mistake was going to be very fun indeed.

((Fade to black.))