"Ha, ha, ha," Michael drawled, pushing the hair out of his eyes and grinning at his riding companion. "Maybe if I'd hexed my way through those bushes and spelled myself across that river, I might have kept pace with you. But some of us like to go about life the honest way." Michael leaned back in his saddle idly, and patted the neck of his black Arabian, which whinnied loudly. Michael had been riding since he was a child; his sister had begged for lessons as a little girl, and Michael had always followed Merry around like a shadow. In the end, though, he was the one who had stuck with it, and not Merry. Michael's fear of heights had always kept him from playing Quidditch, but horses were not nearly as high up as broomsticks, and Michael had taken to equestrianism like a fish to water. In the past few years he'd stopped riding as often, but he still retained a firm and easy control of a horse, and loved to spend time riding.

"It's beautiful here, mate," Michael said appreciatively, gazing out around the sun-dappled fields. It certainly paid to have connections.

"You'll get no argument from me.  I'm glad my Uncle Tiberius is a member.  Would you believe you need approval from the entire board of trustees to be invited to purchase a membership? Of course, it's mostly to keep the wrong type of people out."  Cormac sighed, self-importantly.  "I'm glad you could come, though.  It's more fun riding when you've got someone to heckle."  He grinned.  "Race you back to the clubhouse?"

Michael arched an eyebrow competitively, and flicked the reins expertly. "You're on," he replied, and he kicked his horse into a gallop before Cormac could respond, flying down the hill towards the stables, his hair flying backwards with the wind. He squinted his eyes and let out an ungentlemanly whoop, not caring much about prestige or manners as he raced down the hillside.

Racing against Michael without cheating and winning was like trying to fill a glass of water with a spoon.  Spurring his horse on, Cormac held fast to the reins as his horse galloped off in the direction Michael's had gone.  Galloping faster and faster, he was lost in the moment, completely happy and carefree for the first time all week.  Feeling the horse's muscles bunch and move under his legs was an empowering feeling.  The wind whipped through his hair, and his eyes were stinging, but gone were his worries about work, his lackluster love-life and his five year plan.   Arriving at the stables, he laughed to see Michael already off his horse and heading towards the clubhouse. He handed his horse off to an attendant and caught up with Michael.  "Nice riding, mate," Cormac said. "Drinks are on me."

"Thanks," Michael replied, to both the compliment and the offer. He grinned, fiddling with the collar of his sweaty riding jacket, which was sticking uncomfortably to his neck. Glenlivet was known for its scotch, and Michael wasn't the sort to turn down a drink...despite the somewhat nasty consequences alcohol had brought him recently. He headed into the men's changing room, and stripped out of his dirty riding clothes, before jumping into the shower and quickly washing himself of the perspiration and dirt he'd accumulated over the course of the day.  Michael chuckled to himself as he heard Cormac singing to himself in the neighboring shower. The hot water felt fantastic after the exertion of the ride, and as he toweled himself dry, he reflected that today was probably the best day he'd had in a long while.

Once he was dressed--in the formal wizarding apparel required at the clubhouse, of course--he rejoined Cormac in the smoking lounge, who was looking quite sharp after his own shower. They exchanged smiles and nods and made a beeline straight for the bar, where the bartender watched them expectantly, his hand already poised on the Glenlivet bottle of scotch. 

Seating themselves at the bar, and seeing the bartender poised to give them what they wanted, Cormac nodded his head and said, "Two, please."  Taking a sip of the wonderfully woodsy smelling scotch, he set his glass down and sighed deeply.  "What was your week like?  Any interesting developments at work?"

Michael eyed Cormac suspiciously. He had a feeling what his friend was insinuating, and rather than play games, decided to cut to the chase and just fill Cormac in on everything he wanted to know.

"As I'm sure you're dying to hear, I bumped into Su Wednesday night, but not at work--at the Three Broomsticks. I was completely pissed." Michael rolled his eyes. "Something happened. We talked. We kissed. I made a complete and utter prat of myself, and we argued about whether it was just drunken lust or anything more....to be honest, I can't remember the details all that well. Only that she kissed me goodbye and then I vomited. All over the ground outside the Three Broomsticks."

Cormac took it all in, going over the details in his head.  "Did you vomit before or after she left?"

"After. She Disapparated. It made me dizzy." Michael shook his head at the memory, and couldn't hide the humiliated smile tugging at his lips.

"Perfectly fine then.  Salvageable.  Wait. Drunken lust?   Drunken lust can be very enjoyable.  What's wrong with that?"

Michael opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying desperately to figure out how to explain his reasoning to Cormac, who would probably have done the exact opposite on Wednesday night, and shagged Su senseless.

"It's just--I wanted to do it right," he finally concluded. "I didn't want to just...be a drunken animal. If we are--if there is something happening between us, I don't want it to be triggered by a drunken night at the 'Sticks. I want to...I dunno. Romance her." He blushed a little at the admission, and shrugged. Michael had always had a bit of a weakness when it came to the way he treated women. A little too high-ground, some of his randier friends might have said, but Michael liked his soft side when it came to women.

If he'd shagged Su on Wednesday--and even been able to remember it--he would have felt incredibly guilty the next day.

Cormac began to feel a tad bit nauseous.  "Dear Merlin."  He gulped. "You're talking about a relationship."  Taking a deep breath he continued, "Well done, then.  She'll respect you for that."  He couldn't hide his smirk.

"Fuck you, McLaggen," Michael replied with a wry grin, as he finished his scotch. "Yeah, I would like to keep her respect, considering we've been friends since first year, and we work together. I know you can afford to piss off your Alicia Spinnets and the like, but you don't see her every day at the office, and you haven't known her since you were eleven, and it's not quite so complicated for you."

He paused.

"And frankly, I don't know what she expects from all this, still. A quick shag, or a relationship, or what? Better to find out first before I take the plunge--because come to think of it, I don't know what I expect either."

Slowly swirling the scotch in his glass, Cormac looked at Michael with a somewhat astounded expression on his face. "You like her; as in you have feelings for her."  He shuddered. "Watch yourself.  Once you start having feelings...Well, let's just say I won't be surprised at all if a year from now you're seen wearing matching robes and walking your miniature poodle through Diagon Alley." 

"Well, of course I have feelings for her," Michael replied, slightly exasperated. "I'm just trying to sort out what they are, that's all." He made a face at Cormac's depressing envision of his future. "And I'd thank you not to write me off so quickly. I'd like to think I'm not that easily whipped."

He eyed the expression of disgust on his friend's face with curiosity. "Not to go all agony aunt on you, mate, but don't you ever intend on settling for one girl? Not now, obviously, what with the fine variety you're getting--" at this Michael quirked his eyebrows suggestively, and smiled, "--but, you know, sometime?"

"You're not going to hug me after I answer the question, are you?"  He eyed Michael suspiciously. 

"You're safe from me," Michael promised. "No hugs guaranteed."

"I suppose at some unforeseeable date in the future it'll be time to find a wife, and perhaps then I'll start thinking about it. Honestly, I don't know if I'll ever find a woman who I can picture spending large amounts of time with.  Fully clothed."  He tried to smile at Michael but it came out as a grimace.  "I'm happy for you though.  I think."

"Nothing to be happy about," Michael reminded him. "Don't forget the night still ended disastrously, anyway." He paused for a moment, ruminating over Cormac's comment. It was a pessimistic viewpoint, and yet, Michael could understand it. Even he had had similar thoughts before, and Michael had a far more malleable personality than Cormac, and could easily bend to meet a woman's desires. Cormac--well, Cormac was unique. Michael couldn't imagine a woman perfectly suited to Cormac's needs and idiosyncrasies could possibly exist. Still, he couldn't possibly voice that opinion to Cormac, who looked decidedly down after that pronouncement.

"I'm sure she's out there somewhere," Michael replied hopefully. "There's someone for everyone, right? I've just got to hope it's easy to tell when she comes along. Right now, I'm not entirely sure my serious need to get laid isn't just mixing in with some unrelated feelings of friendship and affection, and causing this entire mess," Michael continued.

"I didn't mean for this conversation to get so depressing," Michael remarked with a sigh. "But women tend to do that, don't they? Impossible creatures." He ran his fingers through his hair, which was still slightly damp, and shook his head.

"I will most definitely drink to that," Cormac said, draining his glass.  "Now what do you say we stop by The Club on the way out and see what tonight has to offer?"

"Excellent idea," Michael agreed. "Willing women, a fine cigar or two, some more of this lovely scotch...all of the luxuries high society has to offer, in short." He grinned. "Sounds like exactly the medicine to cure all our ills, I'd say. Shall we?" He stood, and raised a rakish eyebrow in the direction of the door behind which The Club was found.

{Summary:  Michael and Cormac meet at Glenlivet Stables for some Scotch and male bonding...}