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It all began on a quick espionage assignment. Casey had taken on the alias of Petra Lambert, a bartender that had recently moved to a small town by Hogsmeade. Camille took on Ivy Line, a regular at said small bar. Their objective was simple enough, they only had to grow close to a certain bar regular, and obtain the needed information from him.
Slipping into character was the easiest part of the assignment. Casey had always enjoyed acting while on the job, and Camille was just pleased to have an excuse to have a few drinks and chat with Casey. The most fun part in both their minds, however, was balancing the line between genuine and in character. Camille had multiple times that night borderline flirted with Casey, and she was kind enough to flirt back. Of course, all within the characters of Petra and Ivy.
It was dark and empty on the street when they finally exited the bar. Casey held an arm slung around Camille's shoulders, and Camille didn't hesitate to lean towards the touch. The mission was essentially complete, and they had no need to think of the aliases anymore. But still, neither seemed ready to let go of the odd freedom they provided.
"So, Petra." Camille chimed. Her voice clearly portrayed how tipsy she was, but she was more focused on the fictional relationship they had created. "Would you consider us a bit of a thing now?"
"Well, dear Ivy, I believe we could even be more than a mere 'thing'." Casey responded. Camille laughed.
"Then humor me, yeah?" Camille said. Then, mimicking the posh accent in Casey's voice, "Let us run from here? Perhaps off to the woodlands, where we may finally…" Camille began to trail off.
"Be free?" Casey suggested. Camille nodded.
"Perhaps marry." She added. Casey snorted, and dropped the character for a moment.
"Working in a marriage proposal, are you?" She asked.
"I just think that Ivy and uh-" Camille stammered, dropping her own character. "Petra- Petra deserve a bit of a dramatic romance."
"Well I'd certainly know about dramatics." Casey quipped. Camille nudged her gently.
"So?" Camille asked, turning her gaze to Casey. "What would this Petra Lambert say?"
"I believe she'd agree to Ivy's unfeasible plan." Casey answered.
"That right?" Camille giggled. "Well, I'm glad those two got a happy ending."
"I've told you, the best stories end on a high note." Casey met Camille's eyes.
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And eventually, their little stories continued. Every new set of aliases meant a new tale, and eventual marriage proposal to weave. After a handful of missions the order (orchestrated by James) started placing bets, wondering when and where one of the two would find the time to get on one knee, and spout some sappy monologue.
Once, Camille pulled Casey aside after a cheap dinner. She held her (mission) partner's hand, and proposed to Casey's newest alias, Audrey Thompkins, with a downright horrendous French accent.
Another time, Casey tugged Camille aside mid-mission. They found their way to a janitor's closet within the facility they were sneaking into. Casey took the brief moment, as Lyla Foxtrot, to propose to her partner's newest alias, Ember Mercury (estranged niece of Freddy.) It ended in Camille giggling so much it nearly got them found out.
They had one mission in Germany, too. Camille had come back to their shared hotel room just drunk enough to catch Casey's attention. Their recent undercover stunt had finished earlier that day, and they both felt exhausted. Camille shuffled her way to Casey's bed, sitting herself at the foot of it. There, with a copious amount of laughter to boot, she asked Casey's recent character, Heidi Meier, to marry her.
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The midnight cold bit through both of their jackets. As many missions as they had been sent on, the winters seemed to affect Casey more every time. Camille walked a couple feet ahead as the two hastily exited the building, ministry blueprints stowed in their jacket pockets.
Picturesque snow dusted the streets, and the energy of winter sunk over the exhausted witches. Camille especially seemed beyond ready to finally rest once they reached their safe house. Along the walk to their room, Casey looked up from the concrete for once. Her eyes met with a small, yet charming park. The trees were as empty of leaves as the streets were of people, but the couple benches and empty flower beds invoked a delightful sense of home in her. It was then that the idea crossed her mind.
Casey had to walk a bit quicker to reach for Camille's hand.
"I know you're tired, but humor me for a moment, love?" Casey asked, doing her best to avoid annoying Camille further. Camille sighed, but smiled all the same, allowing Casey to lead her beside a surely freezing bench. Casey reached forward, and held both of Camille's hands in her own. Cautiously, she fell to one knee. Camille just chortled.
"Oh, where to begin?" Casey started. Her voice held the comedic theatrics she always used for her fake proposals, and seeing Camille smile at the use of it warmed her chest ever so slightly. "It feels like I've known you all my life, despite only knowing you for what, seven years?" Camille nodded without thought. "Yeah- right." Casey noticed her own voice slipping into sounding less focused, and more genuine. She blamed the cold. "However, these past seven-ish years have been, if I may say, the best of my life. And as much as I'd love to wax poetic about our love and all, I think we'd both like to get out of the cold." Camille laughed and nodded. Casey took in a shivering breath.
"So, Camille Winchester, will you marry me?"
"Casey," Camille chuckled as she always did when she caught Casey in a mistake. "You used my real name, not my alias."
Casey squeezed Camille's hands slightly, and smiled while replying.
"I know."