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flyingtonowhere
Dec. 23rd, 2008 05:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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rarepair_shortsAuthor: captainpookey
Recipient:flyingtonowhere
Title: The Photograph
Pairing: Sirius/Lily
Rating: PG / PG-13
Word Count: 2,480
Summary: Sirius finds a photograph that prompts some curious memories and a revelation that just might change things.
Author's Notes: I really hope you enjoy this! You said you liked romance and angst, as well as “admitting you love each other” fics, and naturally a little snark was indeed included. ;) This may not, however, reached a super-duper happy place like originally intended. Happy Holidays! (& thanks to my usual beta, who is always appreciated!)
How the small box of stuff from Godric’s Hollow ended up at Grimmuald Place, Sirius didn’t know, but he stumbled upon it unexpectedly one afternoon and could not put it down.
Sirius scavenged through the worn clothes and a few scant possessions until he stumbled onto an old, fire-damaged photo album.
Most of the pictures were burnt, scratched, missing pieces, or covered in soot, but among the pages there was one, two, three, maybe seven or eight salvaged photographs.
But Sirius only looked at one, and he remembered everything...
- - - - - -
He wondered how long it would take her to notice that he was standing in the doorframe. He hadn’t bothered to take his coat off yet, but he’d pulled his scarf halfway off his neck, the fringe dangling in his fingers. The fluorescent kitchen lights cast her shadow long and dark over the scuffed old tiles, right up to the tips of his dusty boots.
She muttered sharply to herself as she worked, things like “worthless fiancé” and “doing all the work myself” and “good for nothing best man.”
Sirius Black stepped out of her shadow. “‘Good for nothing best man’, reporting for duty.”
Lily Evans almost fell out of her chair, letting loose a chain of curses so vile they rivaled some of Sirius’s best. He laughed and threw his scarf onto the back of the unoccupied kitchen chair with his coat while she picked her dignity—plus the stack of wedding invitations she’d knocked over in her fright—up off the floor.
“So that ‘worthless fiancé’ of yours sent me over to help you today, seeing as all he’s got to do is get a suit, and we figured Remus could handle that—poor chap has been feeling left out lately. Oh, and James said your bride’s maiden thing was out with the flue.”
“—Bride’s Maid—”
“Yeah, sure.” Sirius kicked his seat back onto the hind legs to prop his boots on the table. “So how can I be of assistance?”
“First of all, boots off the table—” she slapped his leg until he removed them—“and second of all, how’s your handwriting?”
“Atrocious.”
“That’s what I thought. In that case, you can make me a sandwich and tell me something funny.”
Sirius stared at her incredulously. “A sandwich?”
She lifted her eyebrows at him, quill poised over a new invitation. “Got a problem with that?”
He leaned across the table, imposing his elbows all over her invitations so that even if she tried she wouldn’t be able to ignore him, like she’d appeared about to do.
“I do, in fact, have a problem with that.”
“Sirius, get off—”
“How can you ask me to make you a sandwich in times like these?” His eyes flashed. “Maybe James would hop right up and make you a sandwich to soothe your stressed bridal nerves, or whatever, but I, for one, will not.”
Lily shoved his arms, but every time she made at least a little progress he forced them back into place, until eventually she sighed and slumped back in her chair. “What do you want, Sirius?”
“Have you told him yet?”
Lily pursed her lips together; the quill she’d been sucking on returned to the table.
“No,” she breathed.
He reached out across the table and found her hand. She didn’t immediately let him have it, but when his earnest, sad gaze found her face, she relented. He squeezed her hand between his two palms. “Okay,” was all he said before he stood up.
She rubbed her temples and closed her eyes, waiting for him to leave.
Instead he asked, “What kind of sandwich?”
- - - - - -
In the photograph stood Lily and James.
She looked flushed but beautiful in her white dress. James’s coat was draped around her shoulders and his arms around her waist. He grinned at the camera—or Sirius, now—but Lily looked serenely out the side of the photo. Her lips pressed tightly together and suggested that there was more going on here than just what the photo captured.
- - - - - -
“I like that one,” Sirius pointed.
“I already told you that I don’t,” Lily retorted, “so we’re not getting that one.”
“Well then, why’d you ask me? That’s the one I like, all the other ones are rubbish, and you asked for an honest opinion. Well, that’s it—that one.”
The two stood in the middle of what could have, at some point, been the living room of the house at Godric’s Hollow, but now looked more or less like a garden. Every conceivable surface had some sort of arrangement or bouquet set on in, save for the spot Sirius and Lily occupied.
“They’re not all rubbish—there’s too many of them for them all to be rubbish,” Lily retorted, a bouquet of flowers that alternated between bright pink, red, and white with loud popping noises held at the end of her arms.
“Nope,” Sirius shook his head. “All rubbish… especially that one.” He crinkled his nose and pried the bouquet from Lily in order to set it near his feet and out of their way. “How did I get sucked into this again?”
“Petunia’s still sick.”
“Hey, Lil, ever get the feeling that maybe your bride’s maid’s either dying of ‘The Plague’ or, you know, avoiding you?”
“Of course she’s avoiding me, she’s my sister,” Lily barked, but her expression didn’t properly reflect the anger of her words. It was less resentment, more sadness. A soft sigh escaped her lips and her shoulders slumped in resignation.
Sirius slung an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into the warmth of his side. “It could be worse,” he tried. But they both knew that ‘it’ was as bad as it could get, save for one thing.
All Lily wanted to do was stay there under his arm—perhaps turn her face into his chest and hide in the dark, pleasant musk of his old coat—but it was a fleeting fancy that common sense quickly did away with. “I still haven’t told him, Sirius,” she said instead.
Lily stepped out of his arms and didn’t let him stand closer than several bouquets’ width from her the rest of the morning.
- - - - - -
She looked so whimsical, the profile of her face presented the way it was, and a few strategically loose strands of red hair just barely obscuring her eye. One hand held the coat around her shoulders, and the other was loose in James’s.
Sirius could spot what he knew to be orange lilies in the back of the photo, resting on tables behind the lawn—she also wore one in her hair.
But he didn’t think she was looking at them, either.
- - - - - -
Sirius thought that he’d finally escaped his duties when the small crackling fire of his flat spontaneously exploded into harsh green flames. Half a slice of cold pizza dangled from between his teeth and he wore nothing but a pair of pajama flannels, but that didn’t stop Lily Evans from climbing out of the flames and walking straight toward him.
“Lily!” Sirius groaned, “It’s one in the bloody morning, what can you possibly need me to—”
She threw herself into his bare chest before he could finish and wrapped her small arms around his back until her face was squashed against his soft skin and hair.
Sirius blinked and set his pizza down to awkwardly pat her back. “Lily? What’s the matter?”
“I tried to tell him,” her voice quivered, “about you. We’re getting married—Merlin!—and I tried to tell him—” Sirius guided her toward the couch. “It’ll break his heart, Sirius,” she whispered, “I can’t do it.”
As they sat down, Sirius carefully adjusted his expression into one of careful, polite sympathy—and nothing more. “He’ll understand, Lily. I know it’s James, and he’ll be angry, but... I mean, you broke it off with me, that’s what counts.” He paused, his eyes anywhere but on hers when he finally continued, “He is your fiancé though; you can’t just not tell him. He’ll never get over that.” He continued to avoid her, instead concerning himself with a frown at the fire—although he couldn’t help but stroke her cheek and move some of her hair away from her lips with a finger.
“And anyway,” he added as he finally looked down at her, “you love him, he loves you.” He flapped his hand. “Happy endings and all that.”
“Sirius, I still love you.”
“Huh?” Sirius’s eyebrows fell together with the speed and ferocity of a rock slide, all of his fake sympathy evaporating into confusion and shock. He stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it around. “What was that?”
“I still love you. That’s why I can’t tell him, can’t—can’t marry him.”
She flung an arm around Sirius’s neck and dragged his head toward her face until she could kiss him. He hesitated at first, but with her hands in his hair and her lips pressing and throbbing against his mouth fiercely, he gave in. Before he could reign in his tumultuous storm of emotions his arms wrapped around her hips and the two of them slipped together down into the soft cushions of the couch. James, his mind shouted, What about James?—but his mind was not in control right now—Lily’s lips were. And they said Sirius.
- - - - - -
It bothered him.
Something in her expression he hadn’t seen before. This photo was familiar to him—it had always been his favorite because of the way Lily looked so pensive and almost detached from the scene, as if she had been painted there in timeless pastels and sunlight.
He thought it was because she was just distracted, or tired from the festivities, but now he wasn’t so sure. Because even as James smiled and winked, kissed her ear or nuzzled her cheek, she would respond with just the faintest of smiles.
But her eyes never left that corner. Not for a moment.
- - - - - -
Lily scrutinized her face in an unused plate, testing her lips for lipstick and her hair for fly-aways when Sirius’s face appeared in the porcelain.
“You look great,” he said as he pulled out the empty chair beside her and took a seat. He leaned toward her to observe his own face in the plate before he grinned.
She frowned at him. His smile did not falter, but the confidence in his eyes did. He cleared his throat and held out a hand, “...Dance with me?”
It seemed as if she would refuse his hand, and they sat poised in indecision for a long time before her fingers reached his and they stood up together. They flowed onto the makeshift dance floor and into the languid waltz. Lily shuddered when Sirius’s splayed fingers found the small of her back.
“Ever since that night, you’ve been avoiding me,” he said matter-of-factly into her ear.
She closed her eyes and hissed, “Sirius...”
“—It was your idea.”
“I know, but...”
“But you’re married now.”
“Sirius—” she tried to draw away to look at him, but his grasp on her back was firm and all she could do was turn her head just enough to be able to see a portion of his profiled face over her shoulder. She stumbled over the steps to the dance, but he guided her back into them with ease.
“Lily, you just can’t go telling a guy you still love him and then get married to another guy.” He chuckled bitterly and shook his head—his hair tickled her neck and ear. “I love you.”
Her grasp on his shoulder involuntarily tightened. She slipped her hand down around his back in a gripping hug that brought them closer together as they continued to glide across the grass. She buried her chin and lips in his soft suit-coat—he smelled like tangerines and cinnamon. “That night... In a moment of weakness, I came to you. But James... I love James, Sirius. I married James. I loved you too, once, and you know that, but the other night was a terrible case of cold feet. You and I... we haven’t been ‘you and I’ for a very long time now and you know that.”
He didn’t respond but his shoulders and back tightened under her hand; she could make out the muscles of his neck and jaw constricting.
“I’m sorry, Sirius. I’m so sorry.”
His long, steady sigh rustled out over her ear, just brushing her cheekbone. The final, harsh notes of a violin and careful pangs of a lone piano faded out over the hushed summer air and Sirius’s hands slid away from Lily’s frame. She lingered on his shoulder for a moment, giving it a tender squeeze.
“It’s okay,” he said, but his eyes were far away somewhere.
“Sirius, I—”
“Oi! You two!” Before Lily could finish, James was by her side, beaming and throwing his arms around her shoulders. “Lil, I’ve been looking for you everywhere. But I see Padfoot stole you—the arse.” He laughed, gesturing at the camera-wizard who lurked nearby. “Oi! You! There aren’t enough pictures of my beautiful wife, and unless I start seeing more, you’re fired!”
Sirius slipped away with a pleasant clap to James’s back and a final nod to Lily. “Just... try not to break his heart too,” he whispered, and if James hadn’t been distracted he would have noticed the way Sirius’s lips brushed her ear lobe and the way his fingers lingered feather-light in the crook of her elbow. And even if Sirius hadn’t said it, James could have read it—the I love you that filled his grey eyes and molded his sharp shoulders. He would have noticed the way that Lily watched him go.
- - - - - -
Sirius saw it then.
In the corner of the picture, what he thought was an old smudge of something inconsequential shaped itself into the edge of a heel. His heel.
He traced the line of her eyes to the point that would have exactly coincided with the back of his head.
Tilting the photo against the light, Sirius stared at her eye and a part of him broke just then, spilling out from his heart and slowly through the cavities of his chest and up into his neck, numbing his nerves.
He saw it all—the love, pain, and fear that swelled together in her gentle eyes and hid behind that strand of hair. It had never been cold feet, after all, that had brought her to him. It had been cold feet that had kept her away from him.
He should have seen it all along. If she hadn’t cared about him, she would have just told James.
But she never did.
Title: Stake-Out
Pairing: Kingsley/Tonks
Rating: PG
Word Count: 260
Summary: Tonks hates stake-outs.
Author's Notes: Couldn’t help myself, so I wrote this little extra drabble for you. :)
“I hate stake-outs,” Nymphadora Tonks grumbled, pulling her coat tight around her waist, and crossing her arms. Her hair was a non-descript brown tonight, her eyes to match. She blended right into the gloomy rain and smog of the industrial district, down to the gray fabric of her loose jacket—which was, of course, the very point.
“Especially stake-outs in the rain. I hate the rain.”
“Uh-huh,” Kingsley Shacklebolt grunted.
“And I hate these buildings—they all look like bloody little boxes, smashed together and painted the same gross shades of—I dunno—manure or something.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Know what else I hate? I hate—”
“Tonks.”
She paused and looked up at her partner, who leaned against the cold bricks of the alley, hands in the pockets of his trench coat. “What?”
“Twenty minutes ago you said you loved stake-outs, and you loved the rain.” Kingsley raised an eyebrow at her.
She blushed and scuffed her foot against the curb.
“Well?”
“…That was when I thought I would get to hex someone.”
There, against the backdrop of trash and factory smoke, Kingsley erupted into a bout of deep laughter that sounded like the tolling of an old church bell. In a manner of minutes he was bent over double, hugging his stomach.
All traces of discontent in Tonks’s voice were thereafter abandoned for the duration of the evening—even if she didn’t get to hex, curse, or otherwise damage any dark wizards, and even though, at one point, she accidentally fell into a puddle. It was worth it if it made Kingsley laugh like that.
captainpookeyRecipient:
flyingtonowhereTitle: The Photograph
Pairing: Sirius/Lily
Rating: PG / PG-13
Word Count: 2,480
Summary: Sirius finds a photograph that prompts some curious memories and a revelation that just might change things.
Author's Notes: I really hope you enjoy this! You said you liked romance and angst, as well as “admitting you love each other” fics, and naturally a little snark was indeed included. ;) This may not, however, reached a super-duper happy place like originally intended. Happy Holidays! (& thanks to my usual beta, who is always appreciated!)
Sirius scavenged through the worn clothes and a few scant possessions until he stumbled onto an old, fire-damaged photo album.
Most of the pictures were burnt, scratched, missing pieces, or covered in soot, but among the pages there was one, two, three, maybe seven or eight salvaged photographs.
But Sirius only looked at one, and he remembered everything...
- - - - - -
He wondered how long it would take her to notice that he was standing in the doorframe. He hadn’t bothered to take his coat off yet, but he’d pulled his scarf halfway off his neck, the fringe dangling in his fingers. The fluorescent kitchen lights cast her shadow long and dark over the scuffed old tiles, right up to the tips of his dusty boots.
She muttered sharply to herself as she worked, things like “worthless fiancé” and “doing all the work myself” and “good for nothing best man.”
Sirius Black stepped out of her shadow. “‘Good for nothing best man’, reporting for duty.”
Lily Evans almost fell out of her chair, letting loose a chain of curses so vile they rivaled some of Sirius’s best. He laughed and threw his scarf onto the back of the unoccupied kitchen chair with his coat while she picked her dignity—plus the stack of wedding invitations she’d knocked over in her fright—up off the floor.
“So that ‘worthless fiancé’ of yours sent me over to help you today, seeing as all he’s got to do is get a suit, and we figured Remus could handle that—poor chap has been feeling left out lately. Oh, and James said your bride’s maiden thing was out with the flue.”
“—Bride’s Maid—”
“Yeah, sure.” Sirius kicked his seat back onto the hind legs to prop his boots on the table. “So how can I be of assistance?”
“First of all, boots off the table—” she slapped his leg until he removed them—“and second of all, how’s your handwriting?”
“Atrocious.”
“That’s what I thought. In that case, you can make me a sandwich and tell me something funny.”
Sirius stared at her incredulously. “A sandwich?”
She lifted her eyebrows at him, quill poised over a new invitation. “Got a problem with that?”
He leaned across the table, imposing his elbows all over her invitations so that even if she tried she wouldn’t be able to ignore him, like she’d appeared about to do.
“I do, in fact, have a problem with that.”
“Sirius, get off—”
“How can you ask me to make you a sandwich in times like these?” His eyes flashed. “Maybe James would hop right up and make you a sandwich to soothe your stressed bridal nerves, or whatever, but I, for one, will not.”
Lily shoved his arms, but every time she made at least a little progress he forced them back into place, until eventually she sighed and slumped back in her chair. “What do you want, Sirius?”
“Have you told him yet?”
Lily pursed her lips together; the quill she’d been sucking on returned to the table.
“No,” she breathed.
He reached out across the table and found her hand. She didn’t immediately let him have it, but when his earnest, sad gaze found her face, she relented. He squeezed her hand between his two palms. “Okay,” was all he said before he stood up.
She rubbed her temples and closed her eyes, waiting for him to leave.
Instead he asked, “What kind of sandwich?”
In the photograph stood Lily and James.
She looked flushed but beautiful in her white dress. James’s coat was draped around her shoulders and his arms around her waist. He grinned at the camera—or Sirius, now—but Lily looked serenely out the side of the photo. Her lips pressed tightly together and suggested that there was more going on here than just what the photo captured.
- - - - - -
“I like that one,” Sirius pointed.
“I already told you that I don’t,” Lily retorted, “so we’re not getting that one.”
“Well then, why’d you ask me? That’s the one I like, all the other ones are rubbish, and you asked for an honest opinion. Well, that’s it—that one.”
The two stood in the middle of what could have, at some point, been the living room of the house at Godric’s Hollow, but now looked more or less like a garden. Every conceivable surface had some sort of arrangement or bouquet set on in, save for the spot Sirius and Lily occupied.
“They’re not all rubbish—there’s too many of them for them all to be rubbish,” Lily retorted, a bouquet of flowers that alternated between bright pink, red, and white with loud popping noises held at the end of her arms.
“Nope,” Sirius shook his head. “All rubbish… especially that one.” He crinkled his nose and pried the bouquet from Lily in order to set it near his feet and out of their way. “How did I get sucked into this again?”
“Petunia’s still sick.”
“Hey, Lil, ever get the feeling that maybe your bride’s maid’s either dying of ‘The Plague’ or, you know, avoiding you?”
“Of course she’s avoiding me, she’s my sister,” Lily barked, but her expression didn’t properly reflect the anger of her words. It was less resentment, more sadness. A soft sigh escaped her lips and her shoulders slumped in resignation.
Sirius slung an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into the warmth of his side. “It could be worse,” he tried. But they both knew that ‘it’ was as bad as it could get, save for one thing.
All Lily wanted to do was stay there under his arm—perhaps turn her face into his chest and hide in the dark, pleasant musk of his old coat—but it was a fleeting fancy that common sense quickly did away with. “I still haven’t told him, Sirius,” she said instead.
Lily stepped out of his arms and didn’t let him stand closer than several bouquets’ width from her the rest of the morning.
She looked so whimsical, the profile of her face presented the way it was, and a few strategically loose strands of red hair just barely obscuring her eye. One hand held the coat around her shoulders, and the other was loose in James’s.
Sirius could spot what he knew to be orange lilies in the back of the photo, resting on tables behind the lawn—she also wore one in her hair.
But he didn’t think she was looking at them, either.
- - - - - -
Sirius thought that he’d finally escaped his duties when the small crackling fire of his flat spontaneously exploded into harsh green flames. Half a slice of cold pizza dangled from between his teeth and he wore nothing but a pair of pajama flannels, but that didn’t stop Lily Evans from climbing out of the flames and walking straight toward him.
“Lily!” Sirius groaned, “It’s one in the bloody morning, what can you possibly need me to—”
She threw herself into his bare chest before he could finish and wrapped her small arms around his back until her face was squashed against his soft skin and hair.
Sirius blinked and set his pizza down to awkwardly pat her back. “Lily? What’s the matter?”
“I tried to tell him,” her voice quivered, “about you. We’re getting married—Merlin!—and I tried to tell him—” Sirius guided her toward the couch. “It’ll break his heart, Sirius,” she whispered, “I can’t do it.”
As they sat down, Sirius carefully adjusted his expression into one of careful, polite sympathy—and nothing more. “He’ll understand, Lily. I know it’s James, and he’ll be angry, but... I mean, you broke it off with me, that’s what counts.” He paused, his eyes anywhere but on hers when he finally continued, “He is your fiancé though; you can’t just not tell him. He’ll never get over that.” He continued to avoid her, instead concerning himself with a frown at the fire—although he couldn’t help but stroke her cheek and move some of her hair away from her lips with a finger.
“And anyway,” he added as he finally looked down at her, “you love him, he loves you.” He flapped his hand. “Happy endings and all that.”
“Sirius, I still love you.”
“Huh?” Sirius’s eyebrows fell together with the speed and ferocity of a rock slide, all of his fake sympathy evaporating into confusion and shock. He stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it around. “What was that?”
“I still love you. That’s why I can’t tell him, can’t—can’t marry him.”
She flung an arm around Sirius’s neck and dragged his head toward her face until she could kiss him. He hesitated at first, but with her hands in his hair and her lips pressing and throbbing against his mouth fiercely, he gave in. Before he could reign in his tumultuous storm of emotions his arms wrapped around her hips and the two of them slipped together down into the soft cushions of the couch. James, his mind shouted, What about James?—but his mind was not in control right now—Lily’s lips were. And they said Sirius.
It bothered him.
Something in her expression he hadn’t seen before. This photo was familiar to him—it had always been his favorite because of the way Lily looked so pensive and almost detached from the scene, as if she had been painted there in timeless pastels and sunlight.
He thought it was because she was just distracted, or tired from the festivities, but now he wasn’t so sure. Because even as James smiled and winked, kissed her ear or nuzzled her cheek, she would respond with just the faintest of smiles.
But her eyes never left that corner. Not for a moment.
- - - - - -
Lily scrutinized her face in an unused plate, testing her lips for lipstick and her hair for fly-aways when Sirius’s face appeared in the porcelain.
“You look great,” he said as he pulled out the empty chair beside her and took a seat. He leaned toward her to observe his own face in the plate before he grinned.
She frowned at him. His smile did not falter, but the confidence in his eyes did. He cleared his throat and held out a hand, “...Dance with me?”
It seemed as if she would refuse his hand, and they sat poised in indecision for a long time before her fingers reached his and they stood up together. They flowed onto the makeshift dance floor and into the languid waltz. Lily shuddered when Sirius’s splayed fingers found the small of her back.
“Ever since that night, you’ve been avoiding me,” he said matter-of-factly into her ear.
She closed her eyes and hissed, “Sirius...”
“—It was your idea.”
“I know, but...”
“But you’re married now.”
“Sirius—” she tried to draw away to look at him, but his grasp on her back was firm and all she could do was turn her head just enough to be able to see a portion of his profiled face over her shoulder. She stumbled over the steps to the dance, but he guided her back into them with ease.
“Lily, you just can’t go telling a guy you still love him and then get married to another guy.” He chuckled bitterly and shook his head—his hair tickled her neck and ear. “I love you.”
Her grasp on his shoulder involuntarily tightened. She slipped her hand down around his back in a gripping hug that brought them closer together as they continued to glide across the grass. She buried her chin and lips in his soft suit-coat—he smelled like tangerines and cinnamon. “That night... In a moment of weakness, I came to you. But James... I love James, Sirius. I married James. I loved you too, once, and you know that, but the other night was a terrible case of cold feet. You and I... we haven’t been ‘you and I’ for a very long time now and you know that.”
He didn’t respond but his shoulders and back tightened under her hand; she could make out the muscles of his neck and jaw constricting.
“I’m sorry, Sirius. I’m so sorry.”
His long, steady sigh rustled out over her ear, just brushing her cheekbone. The final, harsh notes of a violin and careful pangs of a lone piano faded out over the hushed summer air and Sirius’s hands slid away from Lily’s frame. She lingered on his shoulder for a moment, giving it a tender squeeze.
“It’s okay,” he said, but his eyes were far away somewhere.
“Sirius, I—”
“Oi! You two!” Before Lily could finish, James was by her side, beaming and throwing his arms around her shoulders. “Lil, I’ve been looking for you everywhere. But I see Padfoot stole you—the arse.” He laughed, gesturing at the camera-wizard who lurked nearby. “Oi! You! There aren’t enough pictures of my beautiful wife, and unless I start seeing more, you’re fired!”
Sirius slipped away with a pleasant clap to James’s back and a final nod to Lily. “Just... try not to break his heart too,” he whispered, and if James hadn’t been distracted he would have noticed the way Sirius’s lips brushed her ear lobe and the way his fingers lingered feather-light in the crook of her elbow. And even if Sirius hadn’t said it, James could have read it—the I love you that filled his grey eyes and molded his sharp shoulders. He would have noticed the way that Lily watched him go.
Sirius saw it then.
In the corner of the picture, what he thought was an old smudge of something inconsequential shaped itself into the edge of a heel. His heel.
He traced the line of her eyes to the point that would have exactly coincided with the back of his head.
Tilting the photo against the light, Sirius stared at her eye and a part of him broke just then, spilling out from his heart and slowly through the cavities of his chest and up into his neck, numbing his nerves.
He saw it all—the love, pain, and fear that swelled together in her gentle eyes and hid behind that strand of hair. It had never been cold feet, after all, that had brought her to him. It had been cold feet that had kept her away from him.
He should have seen it all along. If she hadn’t cared about him, she would have just told James.
But she never did.
Title: Stake-Out
Pairing: Kingsley/Tonks
Rating: PG
Word Count: 260
Summary: Tonks hates stake-outs.
Author's Notes: Couldn’t help myself, so I wrote this little extra drabble for you. :)
“I hate stake-outs,” Nymphadora Tonks grumbled, pulling her coat tight around her waist, and crossing her arms. Her hair was a non-descript brown tonight, her eyes to match. She blended right into the gloomy rain and smog of the industrial district, down to the gray fabric of her loose jacket—which was, of course, the very point.
“Especially stake-outs in the rain. I hate the rain.”
“Uh-huh,” Kingsley Shacklebolt grunted.
“And I hate these buildings—they all look like bloody little boxes, smashed together and painted the same gross shades of—I dunno—manure or something.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Know what else I hate? I hate—”
“Tonks.”
She paused and looked up at her partner, who leaned against the cold bricks of the alley, hands in the pockets of his trench coat. “What?”
“Twenty minutes ago you said you loved stake-outs, and you loved the rain.” Kingsley raised an eyebrow at her.
She blushed and scuffed her foot against the curb.
“Well?”
“…That was when I thought I would get to hex someone.”
There, against the backdrop of trash and factory smoke, Kingsley erupted into a bout of deep laughter that sounded like the tolling of an old church bell. In a manner of minutes he was bent over double, hugging his stomach.
All traces of discontent in Tonks’s voice were thereafter abandoned for the duration of the evening—even if she didn’t get to hex, curse, or otherwise damage any dark wizards, and even though, at one point, she accidentally fell into a puddle. It was worth it if it made Kingsley laugh like that.
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Date: 2008-12-24 03:25 am (UTC)“First of all, boots off the table—” she slapped his leg until he removed them—“and second of all, how’s your handwriting?”
“Atrocious.”
“That’s what I thought. In that case, you can make me a sandwich and tell me something funny.”
Haha. MAKE ME A SAMMICH!
James, his mind shouted, What about James?—but his mind was not in control right now—Lily’s lips were. And they said Sirius.
BZUH, so good.
AND THEN THE KINGSLEY/TONKS ONE. I'm starting to like this ship more and more every time I read it. And this was so funny. XD
It was worth it if it made Kingsley laugh like that.
Aw. ♥ I bet it was.
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Date: 2008-12-24 04:37 am (UTC)The final, harsh notes of a violin and careful pangs of a lone piano faded out over the hushed summer air and Sirius’s hands slid away from Lily’s frame.
That line was just pure love. The tender leaving, the part where he tells her not to break James' heart, too. Switching back and forth from present tense Sirius to past tense, and his determination to figure out what she was looking at... Mmm. SOB gosh darn it, SOB.
Aaah, but the Kingsley/Tonks made up for it! =D Now I'm sad and happy! I'm sappy! It's just so incredibly Tonks and I adooore Kingsley's reaction to her and my head kind of goes, "yeah, I could see that being the exact moment he decided to tell her about the Order". PERFECT! You made me immensely happy. Thank you thank you thank you!!
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Date: 2008-12-24 09:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-24 09:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-24 10:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-24 05:12 am (UTC)and if James hadn’t been distracted he would have noticed the way Sirius’s lips brushed her ear lobe and the way his fingers lingered feather-light in the crook of her elbow...the I love you that filled his grey eyes and molded his sharp shoulders. He would have noticed the way that Lily watched him go.
Just, so heartbreakingly perfect. Perfect.
& Kingsley/Tonks: cuteness to the max! ahh! =D
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Date: 2008-12-24 06:29 am (UTC)I am in heaven. ♥ This was soooooo awesome.
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Date: 2008-12-24 09:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-24 09:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-24 10:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-25 03:35 am (UTC)I shall comment in a few hours. It's been a little crazy. BUT I'M NOT IGNORING THIS STORY WHICH I KNOW WILL BE A FREAKING AWESOME READ. :D
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Date: 2008-12-26 03:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-26 04:07 am (UTC)And have I mentioned I like your chimbomba icon? haha
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Date: 2008-12-27 12:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-26 06:57 pm (UTC)Loved it. Loved them both
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Date: 2008-12-26 07:09 pm (UTC)