The waiting room on the First Floor of St. Mungo's was crowded with its usual collection of Witches and Wizards and their children, all waiting for news on some relative or friend who'd been badly injured by some kind of artifact-related injury. A few of the less serious cases waited with their friends and relatives, grimacing slightly from a burn while mixing a potion, or bloody from an overly-sharp deck of exploding Snap cards, or a fall from a racing broom in the 12th Annual London to Cadiz broom race. Magazines lay in their familiar racks by the rows of chairs -- unused for the day -- for in many hands was a copy of The Daily Prophet, with it's headline:



Below the headlines, were in-depth stories about the case of the notorious former Death Eater Asimov, who had escaped from Azkaban just a few months ago. There were also pictures of Asimov; The Minister of Magic taking questions at a press conference, as well as other pictures of the location that the duel had occurred: The St. Petersburg Museum of Magic, a place that always seemed to be in the headlines. It had only been a few months ago that Ministry agents had returned a valuable magical object to the museum.

Down one corridor, however, the murmur of people's discussion couldn't be heard. This was a secure area of St. Mungo's, reserved for important, or particularly serious cases of injury. It was here that two Aurors stood guard with wands at the entrance to the hall. Just beyond them, a pair of men stood talking. One was tall and sandy-haired, and the other had darker hair. A young woman stood with them both. All three looked tired.

At that moment, a door opened and two healers came out, followed by a much younger woman pushing a cart. Healers Shepherd, Ross and Tompson wore the relieved, but still serious faces of people that had been at work for a while. It had been a harrowing few hours, but the Emergency Field Kit that Auri had carried had done the trick in keeping her alive long enough for them to use an emergency evacuation to St. Mungo's. Luckily, there was little interference from the bewildered and disorganized Russians as they'd popped away from the scene, although there were reprecussion sure to follow.

"Mr. Liten... Miss Murdir... Mr. Kenrick...you can go in and see her now, but be mindful that she's still tired. I've already turned away some of the I.A. Aurors in favor of you three that were instrumental in saving her. As you well know, Miss Murdir, she needs time to let the potions finish their work."

Chase was terribly confused.

She had stood alone, shrouded by the darkness, in a blood-stained sweater, drainpipe jeans and her favorite chukka lace-up boots - which, to her dismay, were scuffed horribly. Beyond her immediate reach was an arch, not unlike one that brides walked through, except this one was plain and unadorned with vines or roses. It was impossibly to tell what dimension she stood in, as the ground didn't seem to exist, but she wasn't falling, either. A shiver ran through her and she rubbed her upper arm absently. Beyond the arch was a warm glow that emitted a constant, pleasant hum, and Chase couldn't help it; her feet carried her forward towards the structure, but she hadn't taken more than a step before a plead nagged at her.

Chase, just stay with me. I've only just got you back, you can't leave now.

She paused, furrowing her eyebrows. But it was so warm beyond the veil! Why did this person try to stop her?

We'll get you through this. Just trust me and hang on.

Chase was torn; she was so close to the veil! It beckoned to her invitingly, and her hazy mind found it difficult not to succumb to the idea. And yet... there was something in this man's voice. Maybe she just needed some time to think? To hold on? In her moment's hesitation, the veiled arch began to slip back, to fade from view, and though Chase considered pursuing the retreating glow, she grew less and less concerned with the matter. Maybe this man's voice was onto something? He clearly knew her, and there was a desperate edge to his plead that she couldn't help but heed. Maybe she'd stay. Maybe...

The blackness faded slowly, swirling into a pool of colors and masses, and the hum was drowned out by murmurs and silence. When she finally opened her eyes, Chase blinked twice quite blankly at the setting before her. The chamber door had just shut, and she was alone in a room, apparently situated on quite a cushy bed as well. Bottles and vials decorated the bedstand next to her, and though her head still throbbed, she breathed steadily. The pain in her side had subsided greatly, and besides a scratchy throat and a rather pale countenance, she didn't feel much worse for wear than she had expected.

Guess I'm not dead after all. I'll have to see what lies beyond the veil another day I suppose.

The door creaked open and she looked expectantly towards the entrance.

Darren was a wreck, and had been a walking public relations nightmare from the moment anyone else hit the scene at the museum. It had been a long night, and it still wasn't over. Standing in the hall outside Chase's room at St. Mungo's with Hugh and Auri, he still looked like a mess after the combined efforts of various individuals. Someone had given him a shirt that both looked and smelled like it was hospital issue, Auri had shoved him into a wash room and told him to clean up some, and he'd even decided to actually try when he saw his reflection in the mirror. Even after all of that, there were spots of blood he'd missed, particularly around his hairline, under his nails and in the odd spatter mark that he hadn't even noticed earlier. He hadn't even tried to get it out of his hair, knowing that to be a lost cause and a promise of more mess before he even tried, so he was just going to have to wait for a proper shower before he'd really feel human again.

Human.

Right, because at the moment, he felt pretty far from it. He'd killed before, always in self-defense and because there was no other way, but this hadn't been like that. The Ministry could spin it however they liked, turn he and Chase into heroes supported by their government, but he knew. Asimov had been down, Darren could have ensured that he was completely unarmed and detained him. He could have shipped the criminal back to Azkaban. He hadn't. He didn't know how much Chase remembered of those few minutes, but he didn't guess that it was much, which meant that he was the only living soul that knew. He weighed on him, but he refused to speak up just yet. He wanted to see Chase.

Even without knowing what would become of him, a foreign auror contracted to help with a government case gone rogue, one that had murdered the suspect and helped to destroy priceless artifacts, not to mention the sheer monetary amount of damage that they'd done to the building, he thought it was worth it. Chase was going to live, and Asimov would never be a threat to her again. He was satisfied with himself, though it was that same cold, calm satisfaction of the hunter that he'd felt upon killing the man. He may never forget that taste, and not for its foulness.

The lone man standing in that museum had never been so relieved in his life as when Hugh and Auri appeared from the darkness. They were followed shortly after by Russian officials, but Auri had already put in the steps necessary for an emergency evacuation, effectively keeping Darren from being arrested. He'd expected it, had even been in the process of stepping away from Hugh, Auri and Chase, hands out so that nobody thought he was armed, when Auri grabbed him and dragged him along with them. He was grateful, but he wasn't so stupid as to think that it wouldn't catch up to him. Even if the governments sorted out most of the details, he was still a registered Animagus, and Asimov had been killed by a rather large feline. It didn't take a genius to figure out. As long as they took their time with it, though.

He'd been surprisingly silent since Hugh and Auri showed up, and a good portion of that was likely exhaustion kicking in and adrenaline wearing off. He hurt everywhere, and he was attributing that to the disarming he'd taken and especially to Asimov's attempt at blowing him up. He had bruises and cuts everywhere that were nearly constantly reminding him that they'd so far been unattended to, and his hands still bore the slices from the knife that had nearly killed Chase. To top it all, he was pretty sure that a rib or two had been cracked in his back when he'd landed on the marble, but it wasn't the worst he'd endured. With all of the blood on him when he'd been brought in, he'd been able to say that he was fine and hadn't been hurt without being called on it. That didn't make his body any less sore, but it was a sore that he figured he deserved. It had been hard-earned.

Finally, the Healers left Chase's room, giving them permission to see her, and Darren hesitated for only a fraction of a second before pushing the door open before him. This prompted another hesitation, a moment of insecurity that he normally wouldn't have felt. If this had been any other partner on any other case. He was slower about entering then, more cautious, not even looking to see if Hugh and Auri were on his heels.

"You stayed."

She had expected a nurse or senior Healer, perhaps, but the figure who strode through the entrance almost sheepishly brought a smile to her chapped and rather pale lips. His first words drew a weak chuckle, as her reedy, hoarse tone fought to suppress a cough that had bubbled in her throat.

The chuckle drew a spasm of pain from her side, and Chase winced slightly; the potions that she had been administered were numbing the sensations fairly well, to her pleasant surprise, though moving was going to be rather sore for awhile, as she discovered when she moved to prop herself up by the pillows.

"You asked me to, so I did," she replied cheerily and rather frankly, unable all of a sudden to express how glad she was that he was near. She spotted a wisp of red hair by the doorway as well, and ached to see her soon-to-be wedded loved ones, but they seemed to be preoccupied by the entrance.

Returning her focus to Darren, she beckoned for him to perch at the edge of her bed. There was a nervous energy about him, as though he were still skittish, and she sighed inwardly, concern sketched across her features. He had managed to clean up some, as she noted his hospital-issued shirt, but the bits of matted blood and hair were difficult to scrub away completely, and a pained expression came over Chase as she ran her fingers gently over his chestnut locks and bloodied cheek. The various wounds across his hands drew an audible sigh from her, and she met his emerald gaze somberly.

"You haven't received medical care yet," she murmured softly, wanting to chastise him, to push him away and into the path of the nearest Healer. Instead, she slipped her hand gently through his. Her next words were a bare whisper.

"Thank you for wanting me to stay."

That strange dream about the veil rushed back to her quite vividly then, and she knew that it had been Darren's plea that had anchored her firmly away from the glow of the arches. Vaguely, she also knew that it must've been Darren who ultimately defeated Asimov, but the memory was far too fresh to revisit so soon. Was he in Azkaban? The girl had yet to view that day's issue of the Daily Prophet, and so had no clue as to the fate of their adversary, but she was infinitely more glad now that he was by her side and whole.

In all honesty, she appeared to be far better off than he'd expected to find her, and that spawned a nearly visible wave of relief that eased a little of that nervous energy. It wasn't gone completely, not considering the mess he still had before him, but seeing with his own eyes that she was alive and going to recover did wonders. The pain she was obviously still enduring wasn't a surprise, even if he hated knowing it was there, but the damage could have been worse. He'd thought it would be, and when she mentioned him asking her to stay, he realized that it probably had been. Force of will could be an impressive thing.

Her glance towards the door was what drew a response from him finally, the rest of his words failing him for the moment. "Hugh and Auri were behind me, they're probably talking to the aurors posted outside," he explained, all the while wanting to ask if she would have stayed had if she hadn't heard him. Had she been that close to death? At the time, he'd thought so, but he also understood how stressful a situation such as that could be. He could have been wrong, even if his instincts were usually good in those moments. He remembered the smell and it had smelled like death. He just reminded himself that he still had Asimov's blood in his nostrils then, and wanted to ignore the knowledge that Chase really had been dying. If Auri hadn't been there when she did, even that force of will wouldn't have saved Chase. He believed it, even if he didn't want to.

Perched on the edge of her bed, her hand sliding into his as she pointed out his lack of medical attention, the very edges of his lips quirked up, a dark sort of smirk threatening. "Of course I wanted you to stay, Chase," he told her, just as quietly, though he met her eyes and let the smile creep in just a little more. "Who else would lay in a hospital bed with a knife wound and point out that I hadn't gotten a few scratches looked at? You're one of a kind."

He tried to play it like a joke, but the humor fell short. He'd almost lost her, after only just getting her back. Now, he was quite possibly going to lose her again, only it was his own fault, this time. He couldn't know what she was thinking as she ran her hand through his dirty, blood-matted hair, but he leaned his head into her hand some anyway. He had to be honest with her, because who knew how long she'd be bed-ridden? He didn't know what was going to happen, and it wasn't fair to leave Auri or Hugh to explain to her later.

"Chase, I--well, I haven't really talked to anyone about what happened at the end, least of all Hugh and Auri, but it won't be long until the Ministry figures it out and I don't know what they're going to want to do about it," he told her, dropping his eyes for a moment, then forcing himself to look at her again. He'd mentioned Asimov's strange comments to Hugh, but that had been more to keep the conversation off of the last few moments. Chase, of all people, needed to know that Asimov was gone and how. "I killed him, Chase. Badly."

The worst part about it was that he wasn't ashamed. He was actually more ashamed that he didn't feel bad, and it made him feel bad to consider what Chase, Hugh and Auri would think of him. Chase herself had decided that Asimov would live to rot in Azkaban for the rest of his natural life, and for a moment, he envied her that morality. This was why working in foreign countries, far away from the eyes and ears of anyone who might know you, was a good thing. Whatever he told her, though, he wouldn't tell her that he'd done it for her. He wouldn't put that on her, not when it had been his choice to take the life that she'd spared.

Meek coughs racked her form and she fought back shivers - those potions tended to result in rather odd side effects, or she was still slightly feverish - and with each wave of fresh pain she squeezed his hand with hers gently; her fingers were by now laced through his securely. Her free hand had finally ended its journey through his matted hair and along his handsome jawline. She took in his words, dark gaze flitting quickly and a tad suspiciously to the figures just by the door. The Ministry had sent security from her department? Why?

Eyebrow quirked very subtlely, she returned her gaze to Darren's and had to smirk back at his response; that Asimov had managed to fell her with a barbaric muggle-style stabbing was embarrassing enough, but she shoved the thought to the back of her mind with his half-hearted jest. Something was gnawing at him, and the knowledge pained her. As the words fell from his lips, she allowed them to sink in with an indeterminable expression.

A pregnant pause ensued, and thoughts floated to the surface of her consciousness one by one, meandering along quite slowly. She wasn't surprised, exactly; in the back of her mind, as soon as she realized that she was still alive, she was quite certain that Asimov had been extinguished, as Darren was the only candidate around in the moment and Asimov had made it clear as day that he wasn't going quietly at all. Even as she lost consciousness, the noises of his strangulation had wriggled into her ears and as she recalled them now, she didn't bother dwelling on them as they floated away.

Her free hand drew his features closer, and she rested her forehead on his.

"He deserved it. It was my fault for hesitating; I didn't do my job like I should have. Thank Merlin you were there. The Ministry won't pursue the matter."

Chase would see to that personally, if need be. Asimov had been removed permanently as a threat and she was the last person to blame Darren for what he had done - had her Ministry-bred moral compass been tweaked just a tad (and if Darren had sustained the kind of injury that she had at Asimov's hands, she wouldn't have hesitated like she did), Chase would have crossed the threshold of bloodthirstiness to satisfy her recklessness as well. After all, there was a reason she never mentioned her first encounter with the dark wizard; she had been foolishly trapped and tortured because of her own bloodlust at the time, and had she taken her first opportunity to disarm him all those years ago rather than pursuing him for the kill, she never would've gotten herself into so sticky a situation to begin with.

But those stories would have to wait for another time. After all, she thought as she tilted her lips upwards just a few degrees to meet his gently, for the first time in too long, it was their duty. As she opened her eyes once more to behold him, a surge of affection for him seemed to fortify her, and Chase braved the pain to rest her cheek against the space between his neck and shoulder. Nothing seemed so comforting at the moment as that cinnamon-musk.

It had been a strange twelve hours for Hugh and Aurelia. Not to mention the frantic efforts to help Chase when they had first arrived, followed closely by the Russian FSB Aurors. Fortunately, Hugh had met their team leader before, when they'd returned the Firebird's Egg, and Auror Koniev was willing to let a life be save, and ask questions later, although his superiors were already in contact with Chase and Darren's, and from the looks of the battle at the Museum; it would be a while before the talk would die down between the two Magical Ministries. At least they hadn't been arrested on the spot. When they arrived, Darren was curiously silent, and offered no real explanation. The body was obviously Asimov, and it was in cold storage now back in St. Petersburg, awaiting a final disposition. Hugh had already guessed the outcome of the fight, as had Aurelia. But Asimov was dead, and that was all to the good. Even the Russians seemed glad to be rid of him, and Hugh knew very well that Aurors -- of whatever nationality -- understood that the ends sometimes justified the means.

He and Aurelia idled outside, talking with two Ministry diplomats that arrived, as well as with the Aurors handling the report. They explained what they'd seen and heard -- no more and no less. Minister of Magic Rostron's aide showed up also, and mentioned that he'd be there to talk to them as soon as possible. He wanted to get the complete story, she said. No doubt. Darren had spoken a little about some of Asimov's last words, and he took it in silently. The most curious fact was the third Egg that Asimov had in a magical bag. He also had the Firebird's Egg, and the Russian curators were eliminating duplicates of the Egg of Atlantis by now. But the third was the Egg of Adamant, long thought lost. Time enough to unravel the tale later.

After Healer Ross took care of Darren's relatively minor wounds in one corner, Hugh and Aurelia came in to see Chase at last. She looked battered, but not worse than he had after his brush with death. He could relate.

He let the girls talk first, and he stood silently by; smiling at their friends escape from death, and lending a handkerchief to his fiance as she was reunited with Chase.

There weren’t words to describe Aurelia’s concern for both Chase and Darren during those hours after they’d received the note of their friend’s horribly selfless deeds. She refused to think seriously about it all, for if she did that everytime anyone went out on their job, she would be a nervous wreck. Instead, she decided to just be angry that they were putting themselves in harms way as some sort of stunt to get out of helping with the wedding. It was a tad selfish, but it helped her stray from gut-wrenching sickness she would otherwise feel.

Aurelia had gone into something of a shock when they were met with their battered up and beaten friends. She put her healing skills to work fixing up the most critical wounds, but once the actual team got there, the redhead relinquished their care to them. It wouldn’t help them, her hustling and bustling around with her emotional ties to the pair. Still, she had done her best with what she could get done, and it wasn’t soon before they were following the crew to St. Mungos.

After some time, they were allowed in to see Chase; it seemed that she was now stable enough for a few familiar faces. Hugh held fast to her hand as they walked down the hall. He was trying his best to be the reasonable voice in her head; though at this point she didn’t know if she wanted to cry or just hit the already injured girl.

There was a little blood on her own clothes, but none of it was her own; she had tried to change before they got to the hospital, but her pants still had a little here and there. Her hair was tied back in a sloppy ponytail and her cheeks were a little tear stained. She gave Darren a look as she entered the room. Why wasn’t he in a bed being treated!?

“You’re awake.” She mumbled, rushing to Chase’s bedside. She took up her friend’s free hand and drew in a long breath. “If either of you ever scare me like that again, I’ll lock you in a room for the rest of your life, I swear!” Her tears fell rather freely now, and she leaned in to kiss Chase’s forehead, and then Darren’s. “You’re stubborn fools, you know that, right?”

The short conference beyond her hospital doors seemed to have concluded as Chase heard the hustle of other figures walking in. She lifted herself from Darren's shoulder as a flash of bright red hair appeared, followed by a sandy-haired head. Chase rubbed her eyes some, feeling Darren's guiding palm against her lower back, and focused into a wonderful picture of Auri and Hugh. Her lips curled into a weak smile.

"My saviors!" she proclaimed joyously, and though her tone was reedy and thin, her features glowed with sincerity. Though she couldn't have known what a large role they played in saving her life, Chase was overjoyed at the thought that they were in close proximity and well, until she caught sight of the state that Auri was in. Her friend's blood-stained clothing was more than enough to tell her that they had seen her shortly after she sustained her wound, and the mere knowledge of that brought a fresh wave of emotion that lumped altogether at the back of her throat.

"Don't cry, it's alright," she whispered hoarsely, her voice cracking midway through as she realized her cheeks were wet. Freeing her hand from Darren's to mop up her friend's tears with Hugh's offered hankerchief, she sighed heavily and tried to put on a braver face. She had promised her friends that she'd play maid of honor and having nearly broken that promise saddened her tremendously, breaking out in a smile amidst the tears at her friend's accusation.

"You've always known me to be a stubborn fool," she admitted, before leaning back on her pillowcase, which had adjusted itself according to her need. She cast a hopeful eye on Hugh.

"How are the arrangements coming along? - Wait, before you get to that," she cast a surreptitious eye towards the door, "Is everything alright with the Ministry?"

There was a pause as she took in his confession, giving him more than enough time to take in her shivers and coughs, side effects of the potions and not her wound, he hoped. The shivers could have been fever, but the only time he'd seen a fever with a knife wound was when there was infection. Chase had been treated, so it had to just be the potions. He didn't like it, but nobody had ever said that he had to. He was surprised when she used the hand that had been in his hair and tracing his face to pull him closer, when she rested her forehead against his, because he'd frankly been expecting that unpleasant moment of silence to end badly. He'd have taken it, but he didn't have to be happy about it. Still, she told him that she was glad he'd been there to do it, that Asimov had deserved it. Did they really have the right to decide that?

What did it matter, since he'd already decided? In that moment, he'd made the choice, and he didn't regret it. Knowing that Chase didn't hate him for it made it even easier, and whether or not that was for the best, he didn't know. It was one of those things that had changed about him that he hadn't ever planned on showing his friends, but now it didn't seem like it had even mattered. Had it?

Her confidence regarding the Ministry's reaction was encouraging, but still not quite enough. He knew a little more about department inquests and investigations to know that it didn't always go well, but with it being Asimov, everyone might just be relieved that he was gone. There was always that option, which he was hoping for.

Of course, Chase wasn't exactly helping in the 'remorse' category when she tilted her head up to kiss him, or when she leaned her head in against his neck afterwards. Obviously, he'd been stupid in thinking that she would hate him, or Auri, for that matter. When Hugh and Auri walked in from their conversation outside the room, Hugh stood back to let the girls have their moment, which was going to be Darren's plan as soon as they arrived. He even went so far as to move from the edge of Chase's bed to the chair beside it, his hand leaving hers only to rest against her back. Obviously, he didn't get too far, but who could blame him? Auri busted in crying, kissing them and threatening to lock them in a room for the rest of their lives for scaring her, so naturally, he'd want to be close to that. Considering the relief he felt at the idea that they both were going to make it to Auri's wedding, he actually did want to be close.

Actually, he couldn't think about that. He was exhausted and hadn't really slept much in the time it took him to get from London to St. Petersburg, then there was the battle and adrenaline, and finally the aftermath of it all. Frankly, if he stopped and thought about the fact that they were both alive (a fact that was going to amaze him when he really considered it) after he'd been so certain that they didn't have a chance of making it out intact, and that he was going to be able to keep his promise about walking Auri down the aisle, the relief might knock him out. That, or start a laughing fit that would probably get him locked in a wing of the hospital that he couldn't sign himself out of. Not cool.

That exhaustion, and refusal to let relief actually take root, was likely what was contributing so strongly to his relative silence. He was always louder, friendlier, always had something to add, but tonight he just couldn't muster anything up. Anything he had rolling around his head wasn't fit to add to a conversation, and part of him was still steeling itself against the talk he knew he was going to have to have with Ministry officials. Being relieved before that seemed stupid. There was still room for everything to go downhill, so he wasn't ready to relax, yet. Still, he nodded his agreement with Chase's response about them being stubborn.

"It's a survival tactic, one that takes many years to develop properly," he said, putting the slightest quirk to his lips as an attempt, but he wasn't kidding. Stubborn kept you alive. Determined. Sometimes, it was all force of will that kept you moving. Chase was alive because of it. He'd be a stubborn fool any day.

Hugh left the side of Darren to come close to where Aurelia stood, and saw Chase's eyes move in his direction. Her question was a good one. Just what would the Ministry do about this? In school, Hugh had always been a law abiding student, except where necessity dictated a bending of the rules. This was much more difficult, only because the stakes were much higher, and the penalties harsher. His own moral compass remained unchanged, but he also wasn't the best judge in this situation, so he'd only told the Aurors from Internal Affairs that they'd been concerned about their friend, Chase. They'd been under no official edict anyway, and Hugh and Aurelia weren't in any trouble. It would probably end up on the Minister of Magic's desk, or worse, maybe a Wizangamot hearing.

On the topic of the wedding, Hugh smiled, and touched Aurelia's hand.

"The wedding will proceed, now that you two are on your way to health. Aurelia and I have help for it, and we're still on course. We can't do it without our friends."

His features changed to something of concern at her other question, however.

"Don't worry about the Ministry, Chase," said Hugh. "The Minister of Magic seems more focused on the fact that Asimov can't hurt anyone, and that the Russians get some reparations for the destruction caused. Luckily, the Aurors we met were led by Pyotr Koniev. He's an old friend. You might remember him from school? He was a transfer student from Durmstrang, so I think it will be all right. The Russians are angry, but it's not like they ever hold the moral high ground tracking criminals. They shoot first, and ask questions later, as the saying is. There's talk of a hearing, but that depends on whether Rostron think the case is closed, or Asimov had some method to his madness."

He placed a basket on the table next to Chase.

"But we can talk later about that. For now, some chocolate, might help morale," he said, with a look to Darren.

While the redhead wanted to be angry at her friends, she was only appreciative that they had managed to escape any real harm. Sure they were beatened and battered up, but with a few days and some good healers on the case – she would call and have Abbigale assigned to helping Chase in the morning – the pair seemed to have escaped death, and she was honestly thankful for that. If anything had happened to them, Aurelia did not know what she would do. It would be awful to suffer any more loss than she already had these years.

“You’re both alive. That’s all that matters really..”

Hugh’s hand on hers brought a small smile to her lips. His words about the wedding brought her back to a happier frame of mind and she almost offered up at smile. “Yes. Things are coming along great. We’re almost ready for everything.. Got a few things that can’t really be done until the time approaches..”

The redhead stood and look around the room. She eyed Darren a moment before Hugh spoke up about the ministry. Rubbish on all of it. They were alive and that awful man was dead, they could sit amongst paperwork for awhile for all she cared at this point.

With a dismissive look on the topic of political issues, she looked again at Darren. “Have you even been seen yet?”

Her gaunt eyes cast a weary glance at Darren; she could almost feel the exhaustion radiating from him and it pained her. Reaching instinctively to her side for her wand, she realized the familiar yew grip wasn't anywhere to be seen and a slight panic rose in her throat. Had they lost it somewhere in the museum?

Hesitant to voice her concern, Chase considered casting a Sleeping Charm on Darren - he appeared comfortable enough in the armchair beside her - before Hugh interjected with news of the Ministry happenings. The relief was etched on her features as he mentioned Koniev. He was always one of the more upstanding Russian Aurors and Hugh was right; they met briefly when he was transferred from Durmstrang. The rest of his news was as she expected; any day now, the bright red memo would appear on her desk summoning her to testify in front of the Wizengamot. As long as they didn't have a reason to use Veritaserum on them, they could brave it.

Frankly, she was moderately shocked that McKlellan hadn't called for her resignation. Folding her thin arms across her shoulders, she surveyed the pretty picture of her friends in front of her; they'd make a beautiful picture standing in the chapel. All of a sudden she itched to be on her feet again, helping her friend in preparations for the big day.

"I'm alive thanks to him," she added softly, lacing her fingers through Darren's without thinking too much of it. She hadn't had time, evidently, to tell Auri of how they had rekindled... something... but Chase didn't give a second thought to the act. Weren't they fairly obvious about it anyway?

He met Hugh's eyes when the man mentioned chocolate and morale, actually smiling at that. He knew that chocolate was supposed to work for Dementor attacks and that like, but he wasn't sold on it being a cure-all for the 'blues'. If it was, he was thinking that Robert Johnson would have had himself a great big chocolate cake instead of worrying about those hellhounds. Even so, the offer was appreciated and he used his free hand to offer the basket closer to Chase. Ladies first, especially bed-ridden ones.

Speaking of 'bed-ridden', Auri's concern finally took a turn for the worst, at least in his opinion. He was personally fine listening to them talk about the Ministry plans, all things considered, but Auri obviously disagreed. His head shot up from whatever his tired brain had started to zone out on while he listened and slipped his fingers through Chase's when she took his hand, and he smiled for Auri. "More or less. I'm fine, just a few nicks from some busted tile," he told her smoothly, and part of it was true. He knew he wasn't dying or in serious need of medical help, so it was all fine. You didn't learn your lesson if it didn't hurt.

That felt like a running theme as of late, but he wasn't really in the mood to analyze his situation. He naturally had no idea that he'd be doing that analysis later, when he was thinking about what he was going to do with himself and where he was going to live, not to mention trying to decide what was important to him. That the idea of Chase dying had hurt so badly should have been a sign, but she hadn't died, and he had to keep reminding himself that everything was fine. No dwelling on what ifs, or they could drive you insane. Maybe when he finally laid down to sleep, which actually made it fortunate for him that Chase didn't know where her wand was. He wouldn't have wanted to take an unexpected nap.

Ironically, they'd ended up trading wands, so his had still been in her back pocket when she'd been brought in. It was probably with her things, whereas he'd had hers and used it to try to staunch her bleeding. He should have thought about what she could possibly want her wand for, but he didn't, instead revealing that he had it and offering it back to her.

"I'm sure anyone would have watched out for you if I hadn't been there," he lied, wishing it was true despite the words sounding empty. He wanted to think that anyone would have done the same, for her OR him, but he didn't believe it. He just knew better, and instead of focusing on that line of thought, he offered the wand to her with an apologetic kind of look. "I'll have it cleaned and polished up. Sorry it's a mess."

Oh, and it was. It was her blood, his own and Asimov's and there wasn't really any telling the difference. It was just gore, in essence, dried on there. His was likely to be the same way, though specifically with her blood. He didn't mind so much, but he didn't like returning hers to her in that condition.

The Healers worked while Darren sat, and Sheperd conferred with this Healer and that about further potions for Chase Lang. It didn't take much to remove the nicks and cuts from his countenance. The tiredness, Hugh knew, was some else again. He felt it, too, but the fact that their friends were alive had kept him awake, Hugh could go for long stretches if there was good company to be had. The man in the armchair looked tired, but not quite ready to go to sleep yet, either. The woman in the bed, and the man in the chair obviously had more to talk about than the mere mission, and Hugh smiled at the thought. But he said nothing about it, it was their own business.

"As soon as you're up and about in another day or so," said Hugh to Chase, "Aurelia's got that list of things she needs to do; and Darren, I'd appreciate it if both of you could contribute something to the service. Just a poem, or some thoughts about our lovely friend, here." He squeezed Aurelia's hand. "But maybe chocolate isn't enough to keep us awake. How about I go and get us all something to eat, and bring it back. You guys can talk until I return."

----------------------

It had been a trying half-day for the Minister of Magic, but fortunately, in the big scheme of things, the Asimov case was just one of many issues to deal with. His immediate concern, however, was how to deal with the conduct of the investigation. His aides had taken some initial reports from the team that had been on site, but details were still sketchy. He also had Brinton McKlellan and some of his cadre to deal with, who were not happy that their authority had been usurped. It had been a serious breach of command structure; although fortunately for Chase Lang and Darren Liten, the results had been satisfactory. However, once the Russians had been suitably mollified, he had to give some support to his people in St. Mungo's. They'd done the job, and if the methods were unorthodox, then it could be said that Asimov and his kind were not exactly hoping to be caught by traditional means.

Rostron had long suspected that the man had some kind of ulterior motive; and the curious pieces of the man's puzzle that hadn't come to light until after he'd escaped. He could have vanished into the hinterlands completely, and popped up to wreak more havoc, but he hadn't. In fact, he'd been doing something entirely unlike him, and it was almost as if he had allies somewhere: That was the danger. If there were Death Eaters on the outside, wouldn't there be more trouble ahead?

Several times he'd eluded capture during those months of freedom, and each time, it appeared to be details that were missed, or deliberately overlooked by the machinery of the Auror Office. The teams couldn't be blamed; and it was odd that the only time they'd actually been able to bring Asimov in their sights again was with rather unorthodox methods. McKlellan had supported Operation Juno, but it wasn't his office that supplied the key information they needed to make it a go. That came from IMC and from research at St. Mungo's by some IMMF staff.

Then came St. Petersburg. It was ultimately successful in foiling Asimov's plan and bringing him down, but only when the home office hadn't been involved. Something was broken in the Auror Office, and Rostron was going to find out what it was. Could it be that Asimov was actually fed information by some back channel? What was his plan in stealing these artifacts?

These thoughts, and others went through his mind as Forbes followed him with the clipboard and they paced their way through the halls of St. Mungo's and entered the room where healers were still working on Darren; and the others were talking.

"Sorry, I came as soon as I could," he said to the group in general.

Aurelia considered ducking out with Hugh, but the health of her friends was more pressing than food at the moment. She jotted down for herself an order of chicken dumpling and a side of butter rolls to go with it. It would be warm and fill her up quickly. When finished, she handed the slip to Hugh and gave him a quick kiss.

“Be safe.” She bid him a temporary farewell and took up residence standing on the other side of Chase’s bed.

Here and there she would check stats or listen to the healers on staff. A friend of hers from the hospital stopped by, and he gave her the full update – something they were keeping from her since she wasn’t (because of personal involvement and pseudo family ties) necessarily family, but close enough.

Speaking of family.. “Chase, is there anyone you want me to send word to?” It was the least she could do, given the state of her condition.

Darren's niceties about her life were acknowledged with a small smile, but she knew better than anyone that had he not been present, things would have ended quite poorly on her end. He didn't fare significantly better - the blood that matted his hair still told her that much at least - and the brunette had to remind herself that despite all odds presented against them, they were still here, safe and alive and in the greatest of company, and that comforted her to no end, no matter what the bureaucratic consequences were. Brushes with death were always humbling.

"Don't be silly," she chided gently, dismissing his apology quite readily; she was unconcerned with the state of her wand, so long as it was still present. As he produced it, she laid it on her bedstand within arm's reach, thinking that she'd have to get him some more care - she had seen him buried under the shards of marble and debris, after all. The extent of his wounds had to be deceptively deep. At Hugh's mention of the service, however, she nodded.

"I've already got something planned," she admitted slyly, speaking no more of the topic but shooting Auri a knowing grin.

The thought of food quickly made her stomach churn, but she mustered up any courage she had to ignore the sudden nausea and merely asked for a bowl of minestrone soup, if only for the warmth it would provide to her seemingly frigid insides. Thanking Hugh as he departed, she relaxed a fraction into the comfort of her pillows, taking the time to enjoy small chitchat with Auri, but before she could respond to her friend's inquiry, they were interrupted by a knock. Her fingers remained loosely entwined with Darren's until the door creaked open once more and the figure who presented himself greeted them.

Chase sat up reflexively and winced at the sudden movement; the stitches in her side seemed to groan. With difficulty, she attempted to get to her feet before Minister Rostron assured her that she needn't budge from her position in the bed and she remained sitting upright anyway. Wounded or not, it wouldn't do to be rude and not greet the Minister properly.

"Good day Minister- thank you for coming at all, no need to apologize," she ventured quickly, before sneaking an apprehensive glance at Darren. Was she about to be served her hearing summons?

If Hugh was picking up food, Darren sure as hell wasn't going to complain, but he wasn't sure how much he felt like eating. It might help keep him up and moving, though. If he hadn't been so set on staying with Chase, he'd have gone with Hugh, if only to walk around, but then there was the fact that he needed a good, hot shower. That would make sore muscles feel better right along with removing the dirt. Wizards definitely underestimated the power of a good, normal shower, what with all the magic and spells. Hot water was a magic all its own.

All he asked for was a sandwich, something with a little substance to it, though there was also some definite substance to Hugh's request for some kind of poem or something in the service.

"You two are assuming I know how to read," he pointed out, regardless of how obviously off-base the idea of him not knowing how to read was. He'd gotten the joke occasionally in the field, especially in situations where he was sent specifically to be 'muscle' (that term still made him laugh, since he wasn't a huge dude), and he didn't have a problem continuing it. All joking aside, however, he was going to have to see what Chase had planned and hope he could come up with something. He could read, yes, but he wasn't a poetic sort of person. Auri was lucky he loved her so much.

With Hugh gone, he could have definitely sat back in his chair and relaxed himself into a short doze, except that the other man was barely gone before Minister Rostron walked in, and it wasn't just Chase who straightened at that. Darren shot to his feet so quickly that a wave of black flashed over his eyes with the head-rush and sudden flare of pain in those ribs he'd thought were damaged. For all that he'd claimed that all he had were a few nicks, he was thinking that the internal bruising from having marble explode all around him might have been a little more serious than he'd thought. He didn't falter because he was well-trained and knew that it would pass, but there was no denying it'd happened. He was still glad he'd waved the horde of healers away each time they'd come at him with wands and potions ready, though. He only liked healers when they were off-duty (Auri), attending to his friends, or he was dying. Otherwise, he didn't want them in his face, thanks.

"Minister Rostron, good morning," he offered, aware after an instant of thought that it actually was morning. He had to wonder how much sleep the minister had gotten. "Please, don't apologize."

Stand up straight, fuck that hurts, hopefully he's not here to throw in a one-way ticket to Azkaban. They still send murderers there, right? Well, maybe not. Maybe it'll all be fine. Yeah, because eating the suspect is always fine. Totally. Fuck.

Yeah, he was screwed, and he'd totally forgotten that he was still wearing that thin silver chain, and that Chase still had her ring. Oops. At least she was the only one who could tell, though. He stood straight with the slightest twitch over having hurt when he stood up, with his head high and a calm expression on his face. Yes, he looked like hell warmed over and exhausted, but he didn't look scared or worried. Points for him, being able to keep up that calm confidence.

Before he even entered the room, Rostron was a little sorry to have to interrupt the happy scene inside. He knew the bond the four students had, going back years to when he'd taught, and then led the instruction at their old school. It brought an easy smile to his face as he sat Darren stand up suddenly, as if attached to strings.

"Please, Mr. Liten, sit down," he said softly, and tried to ease the tension with a gentle hand motion.

"Please give us a few minutes, Doctors," said Rostron to the Healers working in the room, who bowed themselves out. "But Miss Murdir," he said kindly, "please stay, as this concerns you, too. We'll catch up Mr. Kenrick when he returns. Congratulations on the impending wedding," he said, "that was kind of you to invite Elizabeth and I, we shall certainly find the time to come for a little while."

He drew in a deep breath and moved closer to the two by the young woman in the bed. She looked worn out, but otherwise not as bad as with her last run-in with Asimov. He didn't sit, but he drew up an examination stool and half sat on it, one long leg out, and the other on the rung of th stool, he laced his hands, and they fell to his lap.

"First and foremost, I wanted to come and make sure you were all right. It was a very brave, if somewhat foolhardy pursuit -- but," he stopped, and smiled at each of the three. "Not unlike what any of us would do in the situation you found yourselves in."

He explained that his people had long suspected that Asimov had been helped in his escape somehow. Even if it had been with a spell smuggled into the prison. They'd discovered that a potion had been put into one of his meals, similar to the Dimension Door used at the Museum. They hadn't traced it all back yet, but there were indications that Chase's subsequent investigations and tracking of Asimov had been subtly hampered from within.

"Only the information provided by the IMMF was reliable, because it couldn't be accessed easily without raising alarms, and it was done independently of other investigations. The motive for this interference isn't clear, but Asimov was apparently in possession of a lost artifact and was after some others. Someone else wanted those, and whatever secrets they hold. But they needed Asimov to find them and steal them. I think you can guess why."

From her perch on the ledge of the hospital bed, Chase glanced sidelong sharply at Darren for mere seconds, slightly bewildered; was she hearing things? He evidently hadn't verbally announced his apprehension, and yet she had definitely 'heard' him. A quick glance over the man's well-built features showed her the culprit - the thin silver chain remained circled about his neck, having been overlooked in the transit between Verona and St. Petersburg. Avoiding the urge to smile, bemused, Chase restored her attention to the Minister, who had drawn up a stool for himself easily and now rested his feet atop the rungs, thoughtfully folding his hands.

At his mention of their foolhardy methods, Chase ducked her head slightly - if she hadn't ventured out completely rogue, Darren would never have followed and none of the fuss would have started over their departure and Asimov's eventual demise. Frankly, the paperwork that was going to follow was going to be nothing short of a complete mess, and Chase bit her lip, only slightly consoled by the Minister's kind words in the matter.

<What was done was done.>

His next words stunned her. An insider job? Her mind reeled with the impossibility of his suggestion, but try as she might, she couldn't ignore the mounting evidence that their investigation had indeed been led astray by someone in her own department. The cold fear of paranoia clenched its hands around her insides and refused to budge, and Chase could feel her stomach sinking with dread and slight despair. How could anyone in their department have blithely ignored the devastation that the madman had been responsible for in the past?

She opened her mouth to speak, only to discover that it was completely dry.

"The Egg of Atlantis and a 'new world order'," she muttered, recalling Asimov's last-ditch efforts to recruit her in the grander scheme that he had envisioned with a shudder. She exchanged a dark look with Darren.

He did as he was told when Minister Rostron told him to sit down, only slightly more at ease with the man's soft tone and general demeanor. He thought that if Rostron was really there with horrific news, he wouldn't be so casual about his body language and in calling them 'brave', even if he also called them foolish. Darren was used to that, it seemed like the story of his life most of the time, but he was more anxious about these results than usual. Usually, it was more clear-cut, with less collateral damage in a public location.

Damn, you couldn't take him anywhere.

He nodded his acknowledgment, the words 'what was done was done' ringing through his head with a level of acceptance and finality that he didn't usually feel. He was good at letting things flow over him with the tide, but this was different. There was a feeling of heat to them that didn't suit his own thoughts too well, but it didn't make sense and Rostron was explaining an issue with the investigation that he hadn't been told about previously, including that they thought that Asimov had been assisted in his escape from Azkaban. He loved how governments did that whole 'need to know' thing, then expected you to put your lives on the line. Rostron was an improvement and actually reminded Darren of another authority figure, one in the States, who usually seemed to care if you'd nearly died. Darren wasn't the sort to need much, but an acknowledgment was appreciated. Chase had come ridiculously close to death, so as much as Darren wouldn't have expected any special visits for her, he thought that it was appropriate that she got one. It was a sign, in his opinion, of a good leader. If you couldn't find it in yourself to appreciate and care about the soldiers who fought for you, then why should they risk themselves? He'd always firmly believed that, but he'd only found it to be more true with time. He was glad that his memories of his old headmaster hadn't been colored by immaturity and naiveté.

He caught Chase's dark look as she mentioned Asimov's talk of a 'new world order', remembering the words rather well. He'd mentioned it to Hugh when he'd needed something other than the criminal's demise to discuss, but he knew now how stupid it had been to hope that Hugh and Auri hadn't seen or figured out what had happened. Up until this moment, he hadn't taken the time to contemplate exactly what Asimov had been asking. He'd wanted Chase to join up with him, to work alongside him, and Darren had naturally just known that Chase would turn him down. He'd known it, never doubted it, and he'd been right, but what if he hadn't? It was a moot point, but he would have been in serious trouble, quite possibly dead by now, if he'd been wrong. He wouldn't delude himself into thinking that if Chase had defected, he'd have survived against them both alone, and he didn't believe that Asimov would have let him live; not without a serious bit of trouble. He'd trusted Chase without even considering it, and that surprised him. He didn't usually trust people so implicitly, especially with something that could blow up in his face so completely.

Better yet, she hadn't betrayed his trust. It was a pretty huge deal.

"So wait," he finally said, feeling slow in his exhaustion, but he'd gotten it. "Minister, you're seriously saying that someone in your Auror Offices was working with Asimov? To tamper with that much of the investigation, it'd have to be someone high up. Are you sure?"

That wasn't even considering what it would mean to be able to smuggle something in to aid in the man's escape. A simple auror couldn't get away with that, not without a zillion people breathing down their back with questions about the odd timing, and small details. You had to be a big deal to avoid that kind of suspicion, with the authorization to access that kind of information. There weren't a load of people Darren could think of that fit the bill, though he'd be the first to admit that he wasn't accustomed to the London Offices. He wasn't in a hurry to point fingers, either. That'd be stupid, and he was foolish, not stupid.

Rostron waited a little while for reactions from Chase and Darren before explaining any further. He doubted they needed it, he could see the wheels going around as each word sank home. They weren't accorded among the best in their business for nothing. How much things stayed the same. They were the same former students, with the same expression and high intelligence, even if their skills had matured.

"Yes, that's exactly it. We don't have solid proof, but I think it will be enough, and things will have to be cleaned up. So, that's why I only wanted you three here for the next part. You see, if someone was using Asimov to get at some plot, or other conspiracy, that implies that one does exist. Why else would Asimov know about it and cooperate? It had to be high stakes."

He shifted on the stool slightly, and looked at each of them in turn.

"There are a couple of ways we can go about this, because its not finished yet. We could sack those responsible; but then we might not lern exactly what they were up to. So, we can either sack them, and hope they try to continue to follow in Asimov's footsteps; or we can let it all continue, and keep a watch on those responsible, to see what they'll do next. The second option is trickier, because I'm going to have to blame someone in this. If we use the second option, I'll have to have an Auror team that knows how to work on the outside of our organization, with some surrepticious help."

As the words spilled from Minister Rostron, Chase mentally transported herself back to those last spine-chilling moments with Asimov in St. Petersburg less than a day ago, his maniacal laughter still ringing in her ears. Running over each of his threats and absurd offers quietly, she remained very still - perched atop the edge of the St. Mungo's hospital bed - and her mind reeled. She felt as though she stood balanced atop the edge of a cliff, teetering just seconds away from plunging directly into the dark abyss below. It was a peculiar feeling, one that was almost premonitory, and sent tingles down the back of her neck as though she were on the cusp of a revelatory moment.

Finally, Chase retreated her slim legs back under the featherweight covers, noting how a vaguely blue tinge had taken hold of the exposed extremities. The waves of exhaustion weren't helping much with the intense focus, though she couldn't help the natural hum her thoughts seemed to take on. She met Minister Rostron's words with initial silence before venturing a response.

"Your first option, sir, implies that you already have some guesses as to the culprit."

Her thoughts had weighed heavily on her mind since he had first introduced the seeds of conspiracy a few moments ago, and though she hadn't wanted to voice her darkest suspicions, she had to broach the topic however subtly she could. Minister Rostron's suggestion of the next course of action was admittedly unorthodox, though if the mole was as high-ranking as he had indicated, forming a separate, undercover unit wasn't as drastic a move as it sounded.

With a look to Darren and Aurelia, who seemed deep in thought at this revelation, the Minister looked back at Chase to address her question directly. The room was quiet, and as it was a secured area, Rostron had no fear that anything that was being discussed in the room could be leaked. This was, quite frankly, a mess, and it had to be cleaned up, and the task wasn't just for anyone inside the Auro office.

"Yes, I do have suspects," he said. "However, it's likely that you don't know all of them, or only by reputation. None has ever done anything criminal in the past. So, if you and some of your IMMF compatriots are willing to undertake it, I can arrange for a more thorough briefing at a later date, when you're both in better shape. The background work still has to be proved before I'm willing to move forward with the surveillance, but in short, yes, I'm thinking I have who I need."

He stood up and paced to the other side of the room where the windows were. He took a brief look outside, and then turned back to the three.

"As I said, if we go ahead, I will be forced to take some short-term action just for appearances, you understand. This would include putting you on leave, pending further investigation, Ms. Lang. Since it will be a couple of weeks before we can assemble the team that we'd need, and go over it point by point, that will give you recovery time, and time for important activities. And you, Ms. Murdir, will only be needed later. You and your husband."

He smiled in the direction of Aurelia.

"Now, Mr. Liten. The disposition for you in this case would be that you'd be retained temporarily as a consultant for the IMMF security team, under Rick Deckard's direction. That would explain your presence in and around the Ministry. The reality is that you'd be reporting to me. I'm willing to offer you a full-time field leader position in the Auror Department as soon as convenient. Provided that you have no objection? Chief Auror McKlellan is going to continue in his current position for the time being, although Piers Campbell will be running the day-to-day. McKlellan is going to be busy with a new directive of securing some international cooperation from several Auror departments overseas. Make sense?"

He came back over to where the were standing.

"This is a difficult situation. It's not that I suspect McKlellan of actively aiding the escapee. I don't think he did the work, that was these others. However, the reason behind it is what we're searching for, here, and in the process, we can clean up the department. I hate having to break rules to save them, but there we are."

Actually, Darren was pretty sure that the only way he knew any of the people that Rostron was probably suspecting would be by reputation, if at all. He was the new guy around there, so he didn't expect anything different, not until they started throwing around McKlellan's name. Ooooh, interesting. Could that have been why McKlellan wanted Darren reporting directly to him? He couldn't be sure, but it was a thought. Great, so one of the few people that Darren DID know in the office was probably a traitor. That was just awesome.

It would figure that he'd show up in the London offices just in time for the Minister to call for Spring Cleaning. At least it wasn't people he was incredibly fond of just yet, though he was glad to hear that Rostron seemed to trust Deckard. He'd liked the guy, too. He didn't mind helping, but then, something Rostron had said clicked in his brain.

"Full-time field leader?" he blurted, not looking or sounding all that intelligent as he jerked forward suddenly in the seat he'd taken, causing a visible wince this time after forgetting about the soreness in his back. If he'd been less 'out of it', he probably wouldn't have forgotten, or blurted, but the idea was just so unexpected. When Rostron had mentioned taking action, even just for appearances, he'd been expecting something rather different. He definitely hadn't expected to be offered a job. Since killing Asimov, he'd been kissed and then offered a job. What was wrong with this picture? He'd been expecting consequences. Huh.

Great, so he wasn't really looking like he fit that whole 'same high intelligence' bit, but certain allowances should be made for state of mind and body. Still, he felt pretty stupid for blurting. "Sorry, Minister, the offer is just unexpected," he returned, shaking his head a little. The offer suggested that he'd be staying in London, which also hadn't really clicked in his brain as a plan of action that he could take. He'd been planning on leaving after the wedding, and hadn't really thought about it after making that plan. What was he doing? He had time, of course, but that was a big thing to figure out. Damn. Regardless, he was staying until the wedding for sure, so he could help flush out the traitors. "The plan makes sense so far, sir."

Chase was going to be on leave. He glanced her way, trying to put together how she must feel about that. It wasn't so surprising, given injury, to put her on leave, but 'pending further investigation' didn't bode well. Even if it was just for appearances, how long would it last, and how would she like being out of the loop? How far out of the loop would she be? He so didn't have the brain capacity to consider everything just yet.

Having kept her gaze steadfastly on the Minister throughout his short pace across the waiting room and back, Chase shifted her attention to her redheaded caretaker and then the exhausted figure seated at her side in turn with Minister Rostron's words. Her expression remained somewhat carefully blank, even as her mouth seemed to dry immediately at his suggestions; if her jaw weren't already set in the thin-lipped purse, Chase would have balked noticeably at Rostron's 'short-term' action. Even if it were 'just for appearances', she'd have consented to a voluntary leave about as readily as she would've jump off a cliff, injuries be damned. As far as she knew, Chase expected to be up on her feet by tomorrow, if not in a few hours, and the thought of not stepping foot in the Ministry for three weeks was enough to send her into fits of protest and indignance.

Dark plans immediately hatched themselves in her mind, each scenario seemingly more unlikely and ridiculous than the last, and though she shot Auri a knowing half-hearted smile at Minister Rostron's reference to certain important nuptials, Chase seemed to slump visibly at news of her impending leave. There seemed few options available to alter her fate; distraught as she was, Chase was well aware of the diplomatic games and fronts that Minister Rostron (and the Auror Department) needed to uphold for transparency's sake, and what she had embarked on was a processing nightmare, to say the least. Furthermore, if Minister Rostron even suspected McKlellan the slightest - and he did, evidently - Chase's presence in the department would only alert McKlellan to the possibility that he was being watched, particularly as Minister Rostron had vouched for her more than once. Her absence was necessary, as she understood, but still she couldn't help the grim reluctance in her thin sigh.

News of Darren's future appointment piqued her curiosity once more, however, as she snuck another sidelong glance at the man; he appeared a tad more shocked than she found herself, though his being out of the British Ministry probably meant that Darren was less accustomed to their old Headmaster's rule than she was - it came as no surprise that he rewarded good instincts as opposed to strict adherence to rules, as well as his consistent reliance in the IMMF, which had been Minister Rostron's "pet project" since he retired from teaching History of Magic. It was well-known (and sometimes criticized) around the Ministry that Rostron put too much power and faith in the IMMF, particularly around Auror HQ, where the common view was that the IMMF was gadgetry, research, and 'whimsical' pursuit, as opposed to the goal-oriented pragmatism that many of the older Aurors still followed. The dichotomy was an interesting one, and Chase remained split on the two approaches to issues that arose.

The plan meant, as Chase noted, that Darren would be the field-equivalent of her current position as a analytics director, and the schoolyard competition that was so familiar between the pair reared its head with amusing familiarity, though this was certainly no competition - they'd be on the same team, it seemed. It hadn't occurred to her just yet that he would remain in London for the foreseeable future, however, as the cogs in her noggin were still plotting ways to remain in the loop. She met Darren's gaze.

<Would Darren keep me informed... ? If not, I'll have to find another method of keeping tabs on what's going on. Perhaps Preston...>

The reluctance and surprise from the two (and the mirrored reactions of Aurelia Murdir) was expected, but he kept his eyes on Chase for her reaction anyway. She was less readable than Darren, but even that was an indicator of her willingness to fight for what she'd believed in. There was no turning back on anything with her, once she was enlisted to help. Whatever situation she found herself in, she would eventually adapt. he'd make it as easy as he could, but safety was also a concern. They'd have to be protected as well. Nothing that Asimov had ever been involved in was benign. Whatever they'd been trying to do, was probably a dangerous thing. But how big was the threat? They had to know.

"I know this is a little unexpected -- the way we're setting this up. We have a little time to work out the logistics yet. But the basics will be this: Darren, as I said, will report into Rick Deckard's organization. You, Ms. Lang will still be on the books in the Auror Department, but on paid leave. The legal review alone will take three weeks for this situation."

The door opened behind the Minister of Magic, and Hugh re-entered with a serious look on his face and a tray in his hand that contained some lunches. He set this down, and sat near Aurelia, and then passed over the sandwiches and things to each.

"Um, Kristy told me to come in and listen," he said, and settled in. Something big was happening, and he looked at Aurelia, whose face looked serious.


Rostron smiled as the food was passed around.

"Good, come in Hugh, your bride-to-be can catch you up on what you've missed."

He looked back at Darren and Chase.

"In the meantime, Ms. Lang, you'll have to limit your contact with me, but I'll get your messages if you use the IMMF messenger service. Talk to my son about that. In addition, you can always relay things through my aide, Kristy Forbes, or Deckard. It won't look too unusual to talk to her, since her husband is one of Mr. Kenrick's groomsmen, and Deckard is one of the people that knows what's going on, too. Hugh and Aurelia are friends so you'll be able to get news from them, too, without having to use the usual channels. Neither of you will be in the dark."

He went to the stool and sat once more, and looked at the ceiling for a moment. Then he looked at the expectant faces once more.

"How shall I say this? We've gone beyond the realm of traditional channels for law enforcement. Asimov was being played as some kind of piece in something bigger. I suspect that there are people that are -- moles -- in the Auror organization; but they aren't active. However, as details emerge we'll be able to give you some warning. The first meeting will be at the Cafe Renard in Eragny the day before the wedding. I won't be there myself, but Ms. Forbes will be, and she'll have the dossiers on the three suspects for you. By then we'll be able to really help. If I decide to call all this off, of course, you'll be informed."

Aurelia sat mostly in silence, listening to the Minister of Magic as he spoke with Chase and Darren. She nod when he acknowledged her and checked on Chase’s stats here and there to keep herself busy. She didn’t stand though, until Hugh came in with food.

“It’s fine. I’ll take care of it.” She murmured to him, slipping out of seat to help with the food. The redhead fixed a tray at Chase’s bed. She placed the broth Chase had asked for and then squeezed behind Darren to put his food on the bedside table between him and Chase’s bed. Once that’d been finished, she quickly took up a seat with Hugh and gave him the quick rundown of what he’d missed.

Dashing through the small back corridors of St. Mungo's, Trevor's mind raced furiously. Why was Chase in Critical Care? Did this have anything to do with her recent disappearance? Of course it did, don't be a fool, he thought self-admonishingly. Was it really so serious? Hugh's note hadn't seemed that harried, what with his clean script. Then again, Hugh always did everything tidily. But more importantly, why hadn't he been sent for right away, damnit?!

He had been inspecting one of several hundred white dittany-coixseed hybrids when he had heard a faint chime behind him. A tiny bird of what appeared to be folded golden paper had alit on the thick stem of a nettle and had pulsed, as if breathing softly. Opening it gently to reveal Hugh's note, Trevor had paused at comprehension, then immediately tossed the scrap aside and flown from the room before the gilt slip had even touched the floor.

After careening around a corner and nearly crashing into two poor Medi-witches, Trevor finally exited the warren of staff halls and found himself in front of Chase's room. Pausing only long enough to take a calming breath - showing excessive concern could cause a patient unnecessary worry, especially with Chase, he mused - Trevor opened the door firmly to find not just Chase, Hugh and Aurelia, but the Minister of Magic himself?! He had certainly not expected that. Double-checking that his mouth wasn't hanging open, he completed his scan of the room only to let it literally drop. This time, though, instead of a high-ranking government official, it was the presence of Darren that had caught him off-guard. Entirely so. The last he had heard from his once-best-friend, he was in America gallivanting around doing Merlin-knows-what for their Auror agency. Of course, they had fallen apart with time, as had most of Trevor's relationships; he felt a little guilty that he had failed to rekindle this one above most others since his rather … selfish … escapades in Brazil. But that was the past, and nothing he thought about it now would change it. Eyes returning to Chase and silently seeking explanation from hers in turn, Trevor spoke, trying to keep any of the shock that undoubtedly shown in his face from his voice.

"Are you truly alright? I came as soon as I read Hugh's note." He was proud of how calm and composed he sounded, under the circumstances. Especially under the circumstances.



(OOC: we decided to do big reunion here, so apologies/thanks for the golden bird message, Mark! I hope I did them justice, lol)

In all honesty, Darren had completely forgotten about the thoughtspeak communicators or whatever the hell they were that he and Chase were still wearing, and had attributed most of their 'sharing' thus far to his tired mind going off in mostly reassuring directions, which was actually a tad unusual for him. He was great at being reassuring to others, but to himself? When he realized that he was still wearing the chain that gave Chase access to his thoughts, he was probably going to be pretty quick about getting rid of it. For the purposes of the job, when he was aware it was there and able to keep his thoughts to less cynical ventures, it was fine, but he wasn't really at the top of his game right then and there.

Obviously, since he was still a little surprised at Rostron's apparent faith in them, and in him. They HAD just taken out a seriously nasty dark wizard, that much was true, but they'd also caused a hell of a lot of expensive property damage and threatened relations with the Russians. He'd almost expected to be told 'thanks, but go back to America', and had simply been hoping that it'd be okay if he stayed in an entirely off-duty manner to make the wedding. Being offered a job still amazed him.

What also amazed him for an instant there, and confused him, was the sudden question over whether he would keep Chase informed. Obviously, she would find someone else if he wouldn't, probably Preston, but it drew a curious glance her way out of him. For a second there, he almost seemed to realize what was going on, but it passed more surely than it had ever been there, leaving a confident feeling that he knew he'd keep Chase informed. Besides not liking that she was going to be benched for awhile, he sure as hell trusted her knowledge of the situation and people involved. If he couldn't talk to her about what they were all working on, who could he talk to? Besides, Rostron had said neither of them would be in the dark, so it wasn't like anyone was telling him NOT to talk to Chase about it. She needn't have worried about it.

Other than taking in what the Minister was explaining and staying awake, Darren hadn't actually had anything to offer to the situation up until the food arrived. The sandwich was a good idea, something to maybe wake him up some and get him moving again. Food would energize him some more, which meant that he wouldn't have to work at maintaining the energy he had left or give into the idea for a catnap. It had been days since he really slept, between the travel, attempts at research and worrying about what the hell Chase could already be into while he lagged behind. It wasn't like anyone really needed his input, anyway.

Understanding that he wasn't adding anything intelligent to the conversation, he had his focus into taking in everything that had to be said, including Auri's quick recap to Hugh about what was going on (just in case he'd missed anything), and taking out that sandwich. It was hospital food, but St. Mungo's had always been pretty high-quality, hadn't they? It was a hell of a lot tastier than what he'd eaten in other hospitals, and perhaps that was why it vanished so quickly. After being battered, his life threatened and nearly losing his partner, it wasn't a surprise that he took in food and treated sleep, potential naps and energy conservation as though he were still in the field. Once everything had a chance to really calm down, he'd mellow back out about it all. That wasn't going to be for a little while, though.

The surprises weren't finished. Just as he was downing the last bite of what had been a brief sandwich, someone new busted into the room. Well, maybe 'busted' was a little extreme, since Trevor seemed to have hesitated before he entered, but it was still a firm, decisive entrance, and Darren was not expecting anyone else. He also wasn't armed, which presented a problem when his hand instantly found itself without a wand to grasp. He fortunately wasn't the sort to jump someone instantly, rather preferring to be underestimated and overlooked before he made an attack, so all he did was tense, straightening in his chair and considering the best course of action in dealing with a potential threat here. There were aurors down the hall, so hopefully they hadn't been dispatched, but this was a room full of people that hit Darren's radar as 'IMPORTANT, KEEP SAFE'. It was seriously a GODSEND when it clicked in his brain that it was Trevor, and then his muscles tensed even more.

Trevor wasn't the only one who nearly choked when he saw his old friend. Darren saw the way Trevor's jaw utterly dropped, even after his almost-save in covering his shock at seeing the Minister there, and his one source of confidence was in the fact that HIS jaw didn't drop. He'd just pretend that he hadn't tensed up and instantly tried to figure out how to keep them all from dying when he was unarmed and likely going to have to resort to a cleverness and physical prowess that he didn't feel up to. The good news was that the sudden surge of adrenaline from Trevor's entrance and the sandwich had woken him up, though. Covering it all up with a deliberately mangled two-fingered salute (that pissed off the American officials all the time, and he loved it), he finally smiled.

What did I do to deserve all this at once? I can't even decide if this is punishment or reward to have it all happen at the same time!

It was a struggle not to blurt anything, but part of what saved him from doing it was seriously the fact that for once, he didn't know what to SAY. It was Trevor before him, the friend that he'd been certain would have been his forever, and one among the many that he'd lost contact with. He still didn't know who had dropped the ball on it, but it was there in his mind that it very well might have been his fault. He was glad to see the guy, but it was definitely not exactly the time that he'd have chosen. Not seeing your friends for seven years, then making contact again when you were covered in human gore and entirely on edge wasn't exactly his idea of a dream reunion.

He looks good, healthy. Still on the scrawny side, ha. Some things never change.

Trevor seemed pretty composed after that initial display of shock, too. Credit where it was due, especially since Darren had untensed some, but was still sitting up straighter and with more awareness than he had previously been.

"Don't let her fool you, she's here for a reason," he piped up before Chase could tell Trevor that she was fine and it was only a scratch, or something equally understated. "She took on a badass without arranging for appropriate back-up." Darren definitely hadn't counted as 'appropriate back-up', and he'd hold to that one. If he had been, Chase wouldn't have nearly died, so the facts spoke for themselves.

The arrival of nourishment was a welcome respite from the deluge of concerns Chase harboured at the moment. True, three weeks of paid leave allotted to recovery and investigations was hardly a death knell for her career when compared to the months of recuperation she had endured before, but the latest plans to essentially lay low still managed to mar her enjoyment of the broth that Auri set in front of her. To her credit, her expression remained carefully placid even as her misery loomed, and small spoonfuls of her savory lunch even managed to find their way to her lips, though she remained deep in thought. The murmurs of Auri and Hugh lingered in the background, as did the Minister's last instructions for procuring the dossiers.

At least I'll be freed up to help Auri with the wedding plans, she realized, temporarily cheered by the thought, but she had nary a moment to dwell on the bright side of the situation before the door firmly opened and, without announcement, she found her gaze on a very familiar dark-haired herbologist still donned in his impressive lab robes and her thoughts on the instrument that lay innocuously on the bedstand. Despite the fact that he was evidently not on lunch break and didn't exactly take a leisurely stroll towards the Critical Care corridor, Trevor appeared remarkably composed; the presence of the Minister had evidently emphasized decorum.

"What are you doin-"

The words had hardly escaped her before Trevor answered her question, and she couldn't help but shoot a half-accusatory look towards Hugh, though Chase couldn't say she wasn't appreciative of her friend's thoughtfulness - if she had kept the incident from Trevor, she'd never hear the end of it. Better to find out this way than by the Daily Prophet. Mustering up a 'what can you do' sort of shrug and what she hoped was a vaguely reassuring smile, Chase nodded towards a spare chair.

As Darren piped up, Chase repressed the sudden desire to clobber him and instead re-doubled her efforts to channel inner zen.

"Hey now, who looks worse for wear?" She retorted as snidely as she could, though her weak attempt at a joke faltered as she suddenly realized it was probably the first time the pair had laid eyes on each other since their Hogwarts days. What an absurd and bizarre series of reunions Darren's arrival seemed to spark! She snuck a furtive glance at Auri and then Trevor once more finding herself struggling to contain a laugh. There would be plenty of time to explain later.

"Please, Trev, have a seat - Darren's exaggerating. Apparently there was appropriate back-up after all. I'm still kicking! It's good to see you, though, seriously dear. Thank you for the concern."

The unexpected arrival of one of the St. Mungo's staff, and a former Head Boy, Trevor Jennings caught Rostron a little off guard. One of the Aurors outside the area popped his head in, and so did Kristy Forbes.

"S-sorry, Minister. He said it was urgent."said Auror Winters, and the phrase was echoed by the girl, too.

"It's all right," said Rostron, "our business here is concluded, for now. Good to see you Mr. Jennings," he said genially, and shook the young man's hand.

"Mr. Liten, Ms. Lang, we'll see you at the next briefing. Congratulations, we'll at least be on hand for the wedding," he said to Hugh and Aurelia. Then he bowed himself out of the room, and closed the door behind him.

----------------

Once Hugh had gotten the briefing on what had just transpired, he sat back and took a deep breath. Of course he wanted to help, but he realized that the investigation -- especially the style just presented -- was probably going to take time. If he and Aurelia were needed, they'd probably be home by then, so he temporarily set aside any guilt he might have bout not being available to help his friends. He looked on as the two men greeted one another, and after the Minister had left, he came forward. "Good to see you, Trevor," said Hugh, who also rose to shake his hand. "Yes, it's been quite a day." Hugh supposed that Trevor had been immersing himself in work, as he was wont to do, and without Aurelia at the hospital full time, the conduit of knowledge about who was in the treatment ward was probably not as strong as it had been. "I hope you can make it to the rehearsal in a few days. Chase ought to be fine by then."

Tense as Darren appeared, Trevor was surprised at the buoyancy in his tone. Chase's response was hardly less so, though he had expected as much from her; she always made light of her troubles. Eyes on her, Trevor tried to soften his expression - he was relieved to see her well, after all - but it was difficult in such… unusual company. Before he could find the gestured seat, however, the Minister had excused the wince of apology from the other Aurors and commanded Trevor's attention. Nodding silently to the distinguished man as they shook hands, Trevor found himself wondering what exactly that last part was about. Not the wedding of course - the briefing? For what? It was clear that neither Auror was in any shape to be going on another mission any time soon, so what was it they were being tasked with? And from the Minister of Magic himself, no less. This must be something serious, he concluded.

"Good to see you, Trevor."

Refocusing his eyes on the room in front of him, Trevor remembered that Hugh and Aurelia were there as well. It had been a while since he had seen either - they were no doubt busy with preparations - and he was glad to see them. "You too, Hugh. Auri. I should thank you for the note, as well," he added, ducking his head in gratitude. "If it weren't for her thoughtful friends, Chase would end up in a dike somewhere." As he stressed the words, he shot a breezily reproachful glance her way. Her sheepish smile and shrug hardly indicated a concession on her part, but Trevor was used to having to butt in to her life in order to find out what was up.

"Yes, it's been quite a day. I hope you can make it to the rehearsal in a few days. Chase ought to be fine by then."

"Ah, yes… about that…" Trevor grimaced, continuing, "I'm afraid I cannot get that day off, unfortunately. Potts - my boss, of sorts - demands that I be in lab that day to help with the collection. We've new strains we're testing, you see, and the schedule for harvesting leaves to maximize magical output indicates that that very day will be peak collecting time." The irony of his boss' name was not lost on Trevor; unfortunately, Potts did not find the humor in it himself, or anything else, for that matter, and had coldly denied Trevor's request. "Though I will be free for the dinner that night! And the wedding itself, of course…" he added hastily.

"I am sorry to miss the rehearsal, though. I should have liked to find out which bridesmaid I will be accompanying, once and for all." He threw in a sour look with that last part, directed at Aurelia. She had been ever so secretive about it, and Trevor was starting to feel something like ants marching up his spine in an altogether not-so-pleasing anticipation.