cat cradles

Archer opened her eyes groggily, silently cursing the low buzz in her head that was bound to lead to a killer headache later on. She hadn't really had much to drink, but her head had been banged once or twice and-

This was not the room she went to sleep in, she suddenly registered. She had been moved. By that Brock guy. She knew that she should have made sure that her belt stayed with her. But no, she prioritised fun. Bloody hormones. The woman had no idea where she was, but they didn't want her dead. Otherwise they would have killed her already. Unless they were one of those really sick ones who enjoyed to-

The woman blew out a long breath. "I so saw this coming," she grumbled lowly to herself, before stretching her arms and allowing her eyes to flutter close again. She could always make this fun, she supposed. Getting out would be a tricky business. But if she were to fail, that really wouldn't be so-

No. She could get out.

Of course, first Bree would have to figure out exactly where she was.

Brock sat on the cold stone floor, completely unconcerned with the fact that he'd been sitting there for hours. Eli had gone off to find the minister, and she'd been in the middle of something. It didn't bother Brock any, for the moment. Instead, he blew through the bars of the harmonica he had cradled in his hand, playing a sad-sounding note, before picking up the pace and playing an upbeat, happy sounding song. It resembled the Super Mario Theme Song, to some degree.

"Good morning, beautiful." He called through the bars of the cell before returning his mouth to the harmonica, continueing his upbeat tune.

That harmonica. Was. Annoying.

She had a headache, the least the guy could do was show some consideration to the woman he had just imprisoned. It was the least he could do, really. Groaning softly from her headache, she lifted her torso upwards and crossed her legs in one swift movement. "Morning, darling." she replied, eyes still shut. She would get out soon, it shouldn't take her too long to figure out an escape. But she was tired, she could afford a few moments to laze about for a bit. She cracked open one eye to look at him, smirking lazily. "And you were just casually watching me sleep, were you?"

The woman sighed irritably after a few moments. "What in Merlin's name am I wearing?" The clothes felt loose. Different. She wanted her leather back. Her lower lip jutted out into a pout. Where were her clothes? He could have at least-

"You're a terrible host, for the record."

Brock grinned, pausing in his harmonica playing to eye her. "Of course I was, dear. You're beautiful to look at, even in my raggedy old clothes." He winked at her, before resting his head back on the wall and gazing upward at the ceiling.

He chucked. "I would much rather have you somewhere more comfortable - my house, for example - but you know how the ministry is about hoarding felons." He shrugged. "We could have had a very nice breakfast together, but you had to go attack the minister before we met. How dreadful." He pouted, before stowing away his harmonica in his pocket and pulling out a bouncy ball instead. He tossed it up and down in his hand before aiming it at the wall between Bree's cell and the next and throwing it, catching it a moment later.

Archer made a face, eyes still shut lazily, "It wouldn't have killed you to give me my own clothes." The woman was not one for over-sized tops and trousers. It made her feel...too chilled out. She brought her hands behind her head, fingers laced together, and rested it on the wall.

"Ugh." Her nose wrinkled in disgust. "I'm in the Ministry?" She shook her head slightly at herself. "Gross." Bree paused for a second, before opening her eyes properly and raising an eyebrow at the man. "You work for the Ministry?" she asked, tone almost teasing. It amused her, for some reason.

"Oh, come on, you're not telling me you like her, are you?" she drawled, referring to the Minister. "Besides, I explained it very clearly that it wasn't a personal attack." Bree shrugged one shoulder. "What's the big deal? I didn't kill the woman, Merlin." she grumbled.

Kallie's heals clicked forcefully against the floor as she made hre way towards the cells, announcing her arrival far before she actually appeared. Her face was a blank mask as she entered, scanning the scene before her.

"And I assure you," she said simply looking around, "That this isn't a personal imprisonment. You do what you feel you need to for you're job Archer. I do what I need for mine."

She glanced at her head auror, inclining her head slightly towards him. She'd heard that he'd been given the job at the ministry but she had never...

She never really thought about what that had meant. Until now.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, her face still the nutreal mask she always wore it again. He looked the same... he looked good.

Still, this had been the last place she had really expected to see him again - if she ever really though she'd ever see him again - after all...

They had always been very different people.

Brock caught the bouncy ball and grinned, tipping an imaginary hat to the minister in greeting. "See? Nothing personal, dear. It's just, it's my job to protect the pa-... country." Brock said, blinking before winking at the prisoner. "All you had to do to prevent this is not attack her. But you did. Actions have consequences."

He stowed the ball in his pocket and stood, nodding to the minister respectably, a grin fighting its way across his face. "Minister." He said. "I don't think I've had a chance to re-introduce myself properly to either of you." He smiled boyishly, eyes sparkling, as he held out his hand to her. "Brock Cox, Devilishly Handsome Head Auror." He glanced at Bree through the bars of her cage, winking at her before returning his attention to his old friend. "Nice to finally see you again, Nikki."

Archer regarded the other woman silently for a moment.

"No, I've changed my mind." she stated simply, shrugging one shoulder. "The attack was most definitely personal." she watched Kallie carefully, her gaze almost daring. "I've decided I don't particularly like your personality, so..." Bree trailed off, as if she couldn't help the matter. This Minister was too...sensible.

"But, essentially, business based." She waved her hand once in a quick, fluid motion dismissively. "Lets say that the personal attack was additional."

Archer shook her head, and stood in her cell. "I'm not really one for consequences. I'm more of a "do it, get out," sort of girl." she smirked playfully. She raised an eyebrow at the two- it was evident that they knew each other outside the Ministry. Interesting.

"So," Archer smiled at them, and made her ways to the bars of her cell, pressing herself against them. "What are we going to do with Archer?" she whispered, green eyes alight with mischief.

"Lock her up in Azkaban?" the woman grinned, wrapping her fingers around the bars.

Kallie's face remained blank, eye raising slight. It always amused her how people thought they could taunt her into things. No one had ever been able to do that... no one except...

She shrugged on delicate shoulder, "Its not an easy personality to like. I got over that years ago."

Kallie rolled her eyes, the minor gesture escaping her, as Brock introduced himself. Honestly, and she had thought that he might have changed.

"Well unfortunatly, Archer, thats just the thing. You didn't get out this time - and something tells me you have a lot of pass consequences to make up for."

She looked at the woman for a long moment, emotions bubbling up in her, that she bit back, her face remained an emotionless mask. Not a hint of what was going on. At the voice she spared Brock another glance.

"No one's called me Nikki in years." It was a redundant statment of course they hadn't - he had been the only one to do so. And even if that hadn't been the cause she had enough of a time trying to get anyone to call her something other than minister.

Yet ridiculous to point out or not, that was what came out of her mouth.

"Well," she dragged her gaze back to the Captive due to her tone, "if I were on for making things personal I may let you bleed out and be done with it. But I'm not one to make it personal." She shrugged. "So you'll have a trail - I'm sure you'll get sent to Azkaban."

She made a move as if to go, but stopped, tilting her head, looking back to the captive.

"Oh, but if that doesn't work, let me tell you - you better start running, because I swear on my sister's grave that I will spend every waking moment of my life making sure you're life is a living hell," she gave another delicate shrug, and a overly sweet smile, "But don't worry, its nothing personal."

"Archer." Brock repeated, leaning against the wall, his eyes on the ceiling. "Bree Archer. Is that your name, then?" He put his hands in his pockets, looking as comfortable as a cat who got the cream. A half grin tugged at his lips as he continued to look up, an idea striking him. "Well, Bree Archer, for your information, the attempted assassination of a government leader is, historically, dealt with by the Capitol Punishment." Pushing off the wall, he approached slowly, leaning against the bars and gazing in at her, his darkened eyes unreadable as they flashed red for the briefest of moments.

He stayed silent for a while, looking her up and down, trying to find reasons to keep her alive. "We seem to be more civilized here." He said, finally, after debating here. "It's a change to come, I'm sure. Muggles have the right idea on how to deal with people like you." He reached behind him into the back of his pants, pulling out the pistol there and aiming it at her. "What's stopping me from just... putting you down? Saves me a ton of paper work, saves Kallie a bunch of headache... Easier for all involved, ain't it?"

Archer rolled her eyes at the other woman, and moved to lean against the wall farthest away from the bars of her cell. Her cell. She still found it hard to believe that she had allowed herself to stumble into this predicament- she was getting sloppy. She couldn't allow it to continue- there were alterations in her lifestyle that she was now being forced to consider- laying low, maybe? Merlin help her.

"Correction," she interrupted suddenly, one eyebrow raised. "I haven't gotten out yet."

"That's a shame, Nikki's a cute name." she inserted mockingly brightly. Did the two have to catch up now? She raked a hand through her hair impatiently, eager for Kallie to finish talking. This woman could talk, how long-

Her lips crested into a small smile as the Minister began to leak a rather inventivedeath threat. "Azkaban, huh?" she tilted her head, a mild interest escaping through her features. Nice networking opportunity.

Her smile widened at the Minister's unexpected outburst. Her sudden change in attitude, Archer found, was amusing. "Well now you're starting to grow on me." The woman rolled her head back tiredly, "This might take all day- deciding whether I like you or not." she murmured.

She smirked up at the ceiling, not looking at either of the two. "You've only just gotten the name now? Keep up,son." Archer watched the man placidly as he talked, not entirely paying attention to what he was saying. But the words "capitol punishment" and the gun which had made an appearance was enough to reach a fairly accurate summary or the whole speech.

"Well, dying today isn't on my agenda." she murmured, scratched her head and kicked herself off of the wall. "Perhaps because it's a little bit illegal? I heard that matters to aurors." she added wryly, not in the least wavered by the gun.

She didn't know this man- he could very well kill her. Archer was a weaponry dealer- she knew there were far worse ways than dying than a bullet shot. And if he gave her a flesh wound, it wouldn't be too bad, she'd survived her fair share before.

Kallie's footsteps, echoing back the way they came stopped abrumptly as an odd feeling came over her. It was irrational - and Kallie did not like irrational - and she coudln't explain it, but something merely did not feel... right.

Tilting her head slightly, she spun back on her heal, and went back the way she came, her guarded eyes awaiting to see...

Well something.

However that something was not what she did in fact find.

"Brock!" her tone was sharp, clipped, repermanding, it was a sound of a parent to a child or a owner to their pet, "Drop it."

She glared between the two of them.

"If you had gone and killed her off in some ditch, and the entity that was Bree Archer just disappered I suppose it may have been a less of a headache for me. However, if you shoot anyone on ministery proproty, I assure you, you won't be helping me out. Unless you wish to help me out of this position."

The grin he gave to the woman was wolfish, a testiment of just how long it had been since he had had to deal with human punishments. He was an Alpha, killing was not beneath him, and when you had a rabid wolf, you had to put them down. There was no middle ground. The Full was in only a few hours away, surely Volchonka knew that. Wolf punishments were always so much simpler....

"Then I suppose, you'll just have to add dying, won't you?" He said with a dark chuckle. "I don't think its something your agenda is supposed to hold ahead of time." He shrugged. "As for being legal, well, I'm not just an Auror, I'm the Head Auror. I uphold the law. Doesn't mean I don't wane from time to time..." His eyes swept the alleged assassin. "How does it feel to be a beautiful exception?"

"The records of her coming here are not quite written yet, Volchonka. No one knows she is his but me, you, and Eli." He paused, his eyes deliberating before he clicked off the safety. "You are right, however. Her body would be entirely too messy to clean before the shot brought the other aurors running." He smiled suddenly, the look maniacle and entirely unBrocklike. "Off Ministry property it is."

Smirking at the fact that he had clearance for this sort of thing, Brock reached through the bars and grabbed Archer's arm, disappearing before either woman could stop him. The last anyone present could see of either of them was a crack of apparation, and the wink Brock sent Kallie.

There were really worse ways to die than a gunshot. The weapon that was being pointed at her did not phase her at all- it was the concept of actually dying.

It hadn't really occurred to her before that if she were to die of natural causes- unlikely though it was- no one would come to her side at her deathbed. No one would hold her hand, or murmur words of comfort. Because there was no one- not one soul in the world- who truly cared about her. She was completely alone. How had she not noticed it before?

Bree looked tiredly up at the man after they had apparated, not entirely taking into account where they were. What difference did it make?

"So." she smirked, then suddenly regretted speaking. If "so" was her last word, she'd...she'd'...

Living out a death scene was hard.

(OOC: DON'T YOU KILL MY BABY BREE D: )