caught in the act

Door after door was closed, locked, guarded, hexed, leading Bridget to keep going down the hall, getting increasingly more frustrated. A junior auror with whom she was friendly (okay, they slept together a few times while he was going through training and she was bored) had wanted to test something out and had asked her to come down to help him. It was a challenge of sorts. In one of his colleagues' office was a file that he wanted, and in a highly guarded Gringotts vault was a diamond ring set with emeralds and sapphires that she had lusted over since she saw his mother wear it to a charity event. The deal was that if she got the file for him, she got the ring. His mother had since died and the heirloom was his to do with as he saw fit. She didn't bother to ask why he couldn't get it himself; it didn't matter.

The next door she came to was marked plain as day: Flynn Hunter. Just the one she was looking for. It was unlocked and there were no protective enchantments that she could detect. Odd for an auror's office but she wasn't about to be unappreciative to this Flynn Hunter person for making her job easy. She opened the door to the office and immediately, something was amiss. Something about the air didn't feel right to her, but she'd already agreed to give it a try, so she stepped in and closed the door behind her.

She shuffled through the papers on the desk to no avail, but she was in luck when she made it to the second drawer. She was about to duplicate the file when she heard the handle on the door start to turn. Damn it all, Flynn Hunter. You made this so easy for me and now you're going to show up to ruin it all?

Left with no way out, Bridget did the only thing she could think to do. She sat on the desk and crossed her legs, quickly adjusting her skirt so it lay just right as she waited for this Flynn Hunter person to reveal himself.

Flynn didn't wake up grumpy. In fact, for the first five minutes after waking, he was in a particularly good mood; a mood which seemed to dissipate as quick as a perp from the law.

He noticed that whilst he was asleep, something which was a rarity as it was, that he received copious owls from the Ministry, all of which were no way near necessary to be sent at such an ungodly hour in the first place. He read through them all, feeling overworked before he even set foot in his office. Flynn stood, cursing as his knee jarred with the top of the table. He glared at the piece of furniture, knowing full well that it was too small for his tall frame, but he still sat there every morning and every morning his knee was bruised. He sighed, and stood, looking around at his dingy apartment. It really was a hole. He had to do something about it. Or just move.

Flynn apparated to the Ministry, eyes cast downwards so that he wasn't bombarded by ministry officials wanting to 'catch a quick word' with him. Even so, it still took him fifteen minutes to get to his office. He opened his door and stepped through, not noticing the woman perched on his desk until he was a good two metres into his office. He stopped and tilted his head to the side, wondering if he scheduled a meeting with this woman, or had some other prior arrangement. He didn't recognise her, but that wasn't surprising. He didn't know half the people he worked with.

"Can I help you?" he asked, curious and annoyed at the same time. He hoped that he didn't have some forgotten meeting that he needed to attend. After the morning he had, he was just after some peace and quiet, and a double shot espresso.

Bridget was suprised to see that the man called Flynn Hunter was actually rather good looking. She generally expected people to be unattractive so that it wasn't a disappointment when they were, or it was a pleasant surprise if they weren't. She was quick to try to pinpoint his personality traits so she could figure out the easiest way to get what.

Unobservant, irritable, perhaps a bit stupid... I wonder if he wears boxers or briefs... Bridget pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind. She needed a quick plan on what angle to play. She easily decided on bimbo secretary since it was the easiest role, plus her attire didn't really make it all that unbelievable.

"I'm the new secretary," she said in her best dumb girl voice. "I was asked to get a copy of the Robinson file from you but you weren't here and I didn't know where to look, so I decided to wait. I hope I didn't break any rules by coming in here by myself. It's my first day," she smiled at him, hoping that he bought the act.

Flynn raised an eyebrow as the woman seemed to take a moment to answer him. When he heard the drivel from her mouth, he wasn't surprised. Secretaries weren't exactly known for their smarts. He gave the woman a quick once over, noting that she was at least a 8 maybe even a 9.

Flynn thought about what she said. He wasn't even aware they were getting a new secretary. Perhaps they finally decided to let old Abigail go, he thought, thinking that it was definitely time she went. Flynn's brain finally kicked into gear as he reflected on this. He had spoken to Abigail just this morning. Well.. it was more of a grunt than an actual response, but she was definitely still here and didn't look as though this perky brunette had replaced her.

The Auror crossed his arms over his chest, feeling that she was lying to him, but decided to go along with her little game.

"The Robinson file, you say?" he asked, not really wanting an answer. He took a seat in his office chair and straightened his tie casually. "Who was it that asked for it again?" He'd try and at least get some information out of her while she still thought he hadn't cottoned on to her little ploy. Why would she want that file though? his inner dialogue asked.

Bridget nodded at him as he went to take his seat. She swiveled around to face him and recrossed her legs in his direction. She was getting increasingly annoyed with him though she didn't let it show. She'd pegged him as the type to just hand it over without questions but it seemed as though he was going to be a bit more difficult than that.

She slowly moved her foot in a circle to draw his attention downward as she thought quickly. She was counting on her legs to do the work to buy her a little time. Who was it that she'd seen when she passed by?

"She was an older woman, a tad plump, curly white hair," she described the woman she'd seen sitting behind the desk. If only she'd thought to read the name plate as she passed by. "I feel so terrible, I don't remember her name though. I thought it would be rude to ask again. She reminds me of my Aunt Lillith, such a sweet woman."

Bridget, of course, did not have an Aunt Lillith, nor did she feel terrible about not knowing the old witch's name. She was just hoping that her semi-detailed description and her legs would be enough to earn her the file so she could get the hell out of there and make it to brunch with a new piece of jewelry on her finger.

Flynn was momentarily distracted by the movement of the woman's very nice legs. This didn't, however, stop him from hearing what she was saying. Flynn didn't become an Auror by sitting on his arse and doing nothing. He was proud to say that he had very keen senses when it came to being lied too, which made him very good at his job. He flicked his eyes back to the woman, who was trying her best to act as ditzy as possible, and, to her credit, she was doing a top notch job. Flynn just wasn't buying it.

He leaned back in his chair. "So... Abigail asked you, the woman who you replaced, to get a file for her, even though she no longer works here, and therefore would have no need, or desire to have access to this file. Not to mention the fact that she would technically not be authorised to look at the file, seeing as she no longer is an employee here." He glanced at the woman, to catch the telltale signs of a liar. She was doing a marvelous job at trying to deceive though. If he wasn't so annoyed that she was lying to him, he'd be impressed by her ability.

"No need to answer straight away. Have a think about it first. I'm sure you'll want some wait time."

Bridget didn't require any 'wait time', as he put it. He'd made the fatal flaw of underestimating the skills needed of secretaries, as many people did, which allowed her to answer almost instantly. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean. I haven't replaced her. Not yet, at least," she began. She would have to achieve this purely verbally. He was suspicious and no amount of seductive leg movement was going to distract him from that. "She's training me. She'll still be here another week or so while I learn the details of the job," she finished with a bat of the eyelashes.

The key to eyelash batting - as she had learned through many years of practice - was to not overdo it. Many rookies made the mistake of over-using the eyelash bat and they always ended up looking like they had something stuck in their eye. Bridget limited it to two very small bats accompanied by a slight lowering of the eyelid which let the look smolder.

For once, she was actually disappointed that someone thought differently than her sleeping with the boss to get the job. It probably would have made this so much easier. Incidentally, the only boss that she did want to sleep with was her own, but so far he'd rebuffed any moves she'd made. This Flynn Hunter guy was just as attractive as the Headmaster, but he asked so many damn questions that she wasn't even compelled to try to find out the answer to her boxers or briefs inquiry. Okay, maybe she did want to know, but she wasn't going to try anything to find out. That would have been like hanging a sign around her neck that said UP TO NO GOOD.

While she waited patiently for him to respond, looking at him with wide, innocent eyes, her mind was racing, thinking of possible alternate ways to get out of there but still get the ring. She could just take it from him, but there was no fun in that. She could just sleep with him until he gave it to her, but there was no fun in that either. Well, okay, maybe there was a little fun in that.

"Flynn Hunter, that's a really interesting name," she couldn't stop the thought from escaping her mouth. It was a genuine thought, though it happened to fit her ditzy persona perfectly. "Why did your parents choose the name Flynn, if you don't mind me asking?" she kept at it, determined to break him down one way or another.

Flynn continued to lean back in his chair, taking in what this woman was saying. She certainly had no trouble answering the question he posed. It was almost too easy for her, which unnerved him.

"I see," was all he said. He thought back to the file that was mentioned. Why would this woman, whoever she was, want that particular file? He tried recall the Robinson file but nothing of great substance jumped out at him. He would have handed her the file no worries, but something about her made him not want to trust her. He didn't often ignore these gut feelings he got, and he wasn't about to start doing that now.

At the mention of his own name, he was reminded of the fact that he wasn't even aware of her own. "It's a family name," he replied, matter of fact. "Speaking of names, what did you say yours was again?" He was well aware she hadn't mentioned her name; he was trained to recall details like that, but phrased the question as such to build a rapport with her, or the pretense of a rapport. He gathered that she didn't trust him as much as he didn't trust her.

It was easy to tell that he was not pleased by her easy answer. Bridget has expected that much. She thoroughly enjoyed catching people off-guard; she felt like it put her at an advantage even though she was clearly still not at an advantage here. Still, it brought her closer to even ground with this Flynn Hunter.

He was crazy if he thought he was getting her real name, or any name at all, for that matter. "I didn't," she smiled and readjusted her skirt.

She slid off the desk and straightened up. "Tell you what Flynn Hunter, you make me a copy of that file for Abigail and I'll go get you some coffee," she said.

She left the room without giving him a chance to object. It sounded like a secretary-ish thing to do, so she went in search of coffee. Luckily, the door next to his office was open, no one was inside, and there was a paper cup full of coffee on the desk. Sure that this person wouldn't really miss it, she picked it up and took it back to his office. Leaning over the desk and placing the cup in front of him ("accidentally" giving him a rather nice view of her cleavage, if he bothered to look), she said, "I figured you were an I like it black kind of person," she grinned. "How's that file coming along?"

Flynn had to hand it to the woman; she was persistent. He didn't know if she herself wanted this file, or if she was doing someone else's dirty work, but one thing was for certain, he wasn't giving this file away without giving it a once over beforehand.

He took full advantage of her absence to retrieve the file from the locked filing cabinet behind him, flicking through the pages. It was fairly routine to him, nothing that stood out as something to warrant so much effort. He raised an eyebrow, knowing that he was missing something, but what?

He glanced up to see her there again, with a coffee. He was wanting one such beverage, but he definitely made a habit of preparing his own drinks and food. He wouldn't put it past the woman to poison him for this file. Flynn did glance down at the cup of coffee seeing the telltale marks of lipstick slightly around the ring of the cup. He pushed the cup away from him with one finger.

"Thanks but no thanks," he said, "I normally take mine with milk." It was a blatant lie, as black was definitely how he took it, but she didn't need to know that.

He leaned back in his chair once more. "Okay. Let's cut the crap. I know you're not the new secretary, so you can either tell me what you really want with this file, or I can arrange for you to tell me against your will. Either way, you're not getting out of here without telling me the truth. Frankly, I don't particularly care what you want with it and I was looking forward to having a quiet morning so if you cooperate we can work out some sort of deal, ca-piche?"

The fact that she still didn't give him her name highlighted the fact that she was full of it. Flynn waited to see what her response would be.

"Did you have to spoil my fun? Really?" Bridget reverted back to her normal speaking tone (slightly less high-pitched and infinitely less stupid sounding) and pouted at him slightly, then hopped back up onto his desk and crossed her legs once more.

She grabbed the cup of rejected coffee and sipped at it. The instinct to continue lying to him was strong, but he'd worked so hard to get her to tell the truth and she figured the least she could do was give it to him. Jacobs was going to be supremely pissed off at her, but she didn't really care. Once she had the ring she would be done with him anyway.

She tilted her head to the side and looked at him as if she was evaluating him before speaking. "To make a long story short, a sort-of friend wants it. I didn't ask why, I didn't ask what's in it, I don't care what's in it. All I care about is the fact that if I deliver, there's a ring involved that's worth more than you'll make in the next five years combined. Family heirloom, very classic," she said.

Being honest felt interesting. She wasn't sure if it was something that she would be doing very often but it seemed like it would help her reach her goal this time around, especially since she didn't really care what happened to Jacobs once she got what she wanted.

Flynn's mouth curled into a slight smile. He knew she wasn't being honest. He was 99.9% sure of that before she even opened her mouth, but he was glad her response confirmed it anyway. He watched her sit on his desk, and prayed that she didn't knock over the cup of coffee that was near her. He'd have a time charming the mess away, time better spent doing other things.

He crossed his arms back over his chest, and waited for her to speak. What came out of her mouth was expected but still cryptic. She obviously was going to make him press for the name of this person who wanted the file so badly, they asked someone else to do the dirty work.

"And this friend of yours would be?" Flynn drew out the sound of 'be' cocking his eyebrow as he said it. What women would do for jewelry was ridiculous, he thought with a slight shake of his head. Even if it was very very expensive by the sounds of it.

"Oh come on, Flynnie, you don't expect me to show all my cards without getting to see some of yours in return, do you?" Bridget leaned on her arm slightly to the side and mimicked his facial expression. "It's no fun if I just give everything away and then have nothing to show for it."

It was very clear to her that if Jacobs wanted the file, there must be something important in there and Hunter was clearly itching to find out who was after the file and why. He didn't even know that she wasn't even going to be leaving the building with the file, since her plan was to make the exchange in Jacobs' office, which was only just down the hall. "I propose we work out a little deal. You give me a copy of the file and let me leave this room with no further questions, and I'll make sure that you find out exactly who my friend is," she said.

Flynn narrowed his eyes at the nickname. Only his sister ever called him Flynnie, and even she knew he disliked it immensely.

"Seems to me that you know a great deal more about me, than I do you. In fact, your name still escapes me," he said dryly. She was far too good at manipulating people, but Flynn wouldn't be fooled by a pretty face.

At the deal, Flynn's eyebrows rose. He didn't know if he could trust her not to bee-line from the room as soon as he let her have the file, and he questioned her upon this.

"How do I know that you're not going to just make a run for it if I hand over the file? You haven't exactly instilled a great sense of trust within me, now have you?"

He thought about how best to work this deal. "How about you tell me who wants it and then I'll give it to you."

"And it will continue to escape you until I get what I want," Bridget replied. There was no way that she was going to be giving him her name any time soon.

She was enjoying this little mind game and banter of theirs. Usually all it took was one bat of her eyes and men fell all over themselves to do what she wanted, but Flynn was putting up a good resistance; it was a nice change from the usual routine, though it was starting to cut closer and closer to her self-imposed deadline.

"I suppose you don't and I suppose I haven't, but that's what makes this a challenge, isn't it?" she answered. "I'll let you in on a little secret, shall I? That file, even if you give it to me, isn't even going to leave the building," she teased, knowing that the knowledge that the person who had requested the file was in the Ministry would undoubtedly intrigue him more.

"All it will require is that you keep an eye on me, which I think we both know you won't have trouble with at all," she said. It was her final offer to him, since she had essentially told him that she would lead him to who he was looking for and that she didn't really care what happened to Jacobs after she'd left. If he didn't go along with it, she could always get the ring another way, though it was a little bit more time consuming and would require a lot more work on her part with very little satisfaction for her.

Flynn definitely needed a coffee. He was getting more and more agitated by this woman and her secrecy. He'd find out her name one way or another.

That file, even if you give it to me, isn't even going to leave the building.

Flynn leaned forward in his chair, deep in thought. What was it about this file was he missing? Was it someone in his department, or some place else within the Ministry? He didn't want other people snooping around in his business, especially if there was a chance that he missed something in this blasted file.

His mouth curled into a smile. She was right though. Keeping an eye on her wasn't going to be a chore at all. So easy in fact, that he'd keep two eyes on her the entire time.

His curiosity got the better of him and he tapped the file with his fingertips on the table, before picking it up and handing it out to her, still keeping a firm grasp on it, as though he was making a terrible decision. He'd make sure that whoever this person was, wasn't left with this file for very long.

Bridget smiled and grasped the file, though he didn't let go quite yet. "Come on sweetheart, don't you trust me?" she asked, even though they both knew that the answer was no.

Thinking that a little coaxing would get him to let go completely without her having to wrench the file from his grasp, she spoke again. "If I was lying to you, I would still have to get out of the Ministry with it. It is impossible to apparate this far inside the Ministry, so I would have to get away from you to get out of here, which would require running. Do you think that I'm going to be doing any running in these heels?" she asked. She enjoyed using logic to get her way.

Flynn glanced at her footwear. They were rather large heels, although, he had a feeling that the woman would have had some practice running in heels from time to time.

He let go of the file reluctantly, and stood up from his chair, so that if she was to make a run away, he'd at least be on his feet.

"How are you planning on getting this ring anyway?" He had a feeling that this friend of hers wouldn't be so willing to uphold that part of their deal if he knew about the entire process and apprehended him/her.

Bridget slid off the desk once more with the file in hand. "Now now, a lady doesn't talk about those kinds of things," she scolded mockingly.

She opened the door to his office and stepped out into the hall before turning around and placing a hand on his chest. "Remember what I said. All it will require is that you keep an eye on me," she reiterated, making it plain as day that he could watch but not follow.

With the file in hand, she turned around once more and flounced down the hall, her heels clicking on the marble floor. She headed not in the direction of the exit, but further back into the section of offices. Trent Jacobs' office was a mere four down and across the hall from Flynn's.

She knocked once and the door opened, though Trent didn't step far enough out to see Flynn, if he was still watching. "Hi, can I come in? I've got a little gift for you," she said to him. He allowed her in the office and she closed the door behind her.

She emerged fifteen minutes later with the ring on her finger and a dazed looking Trent Jacobs sitting in the chair behind his desk. The file was on his desk, with a note written in Trent's handwriting declaring that the file needed to be delivered to Flynn Hunter that he would read once he was no longer addled enough to think straight. It would be easy enough for Flynn to check that the file had not been duplicated. Tucked away safely in Bridget's bag was a small vial containing a floaty blue-white memory from Jacobs, who wouldn't even recall her being there when questioned.

Flynn was still standing in the doorway of his office when Bridget breezed toward the exit. "I think you'll find that Mr Jacobs is suffering from slight memory loss. It's on his desk," she said simply, flashing him a glimpse of her newly acquired piece of jewelry as she continued on to the exit so she could go add the newest part of her collection to the rest.

Flynn stood at the doorway to his office and watched the woman like a hawk. He wasn't comfortable with this situation but as long as he got what he wanted in the end, he really didn't care what she was up to. Flynn scowled when he saw what office she went into. Jacobs, he thought. Should have known. Trent Jacobs had been on Flynn's watch list for a while now and this little rendezvous proved how untrustworthy he really was. Flynn would definitely start investigating Jacobs closely.

He was getting increasingly nervous about the amount of time that had passed since she had gone into Jacobs' office. He half expected something to be going on in there other than the exchanging of files, but before Flynn could ponder anymore on the subject, Bridget appeared and starting walking his way. He crossed his arms over his chest and leant against the doorframe.

That sneaky minx, he thought, watching her leave with the ring, and no doubt a memory. He still didn't catch her name and probably never would again. Flynn cursed his own stupidity and went to get his file back. She was right about one thing. Jacobs was a right mess and very much so, without a certain memory.

Flynn walked back to his office, and sighed loudly. He was definitely in need of that coffee now.