Silas St. John Bones

“Don’t worry, she picked someone artsy because she says that’s more your speed than most people she works with,” he chuckled. “Good busy?”

“Of course,” he rolled his eyes, amused. “Does that mean I have to prep for a double date soon?” He nodded then. “Good busy. Busy is usually flattering, honestly.”

“A catchphrase for a reason, I’m sure.”

“Are you not great with spice?”

“Oh I can tell.”

“Fake it til you make it,” he quipped, grinning at her.

“Let’s hope you don’t embarrass yourself.”

“I’m confident,” he grinned.

“I think that will manage just fine.”

“Yes, well, my ego still needs me to prove myself,” he hummed.

“A bit mental. The number of attacks is getting bigger every week and we’re not catching anyone for them.”

“It sounds exhausting.”

“Then I’m not all that sorry,” she joked.

“And my undeserving ego.”

“So I’ve.. adjusted.”

“That’s good,” he nodded. “And the ministry?”

“Not the worst,” he replied with a shrug, taking a sip of his drink. “I guess it’s been a while now.”

“It has,” he nodded. 

“Does it insult your manliness?”

“Mostly my pride.”

“I don’t know, you strike me a guy who can’t handle your spice,” she joked teasingly.

“Now that’s extremely insulting,” he tutted jokingly.

“Here,” James said, walking back in from the kitchen before taking a seat.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the drink and a seat. “How’re you? Given everything.”

“Because I know oh so much about your food preferences?”

“This should obviously be inferred,” he tried to say seriously. 

“That she is.”

“Can I get you anything to drink or are you in a rush?”

“No, I’m free for the day,” he shrugged. “Whatever you have’s fine.”

“I said ridiculously. Not a bit.”

“I can’t believe you’re questioning my spice tolerance.”

“The downside of having a very successful sister.”

“She’s very impressive to talk about, at least,” he chuckled.