rarepair_shorts | "Keeping Secrets" Susan/Seamus 10/13

Title: Keeping Secrets
Pairing: Susan/Seamus
Prompt: Announcement To The World
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,700
Summary: When barriers are broken, the question remains what secrets should still be kept.
Author's Notes: Set in the DAYDverse, uses the canon of Dumbledore's Army and the Year of Darkness and the sequel novel, Sluagh. Will not make sense without them. Both stories, as well as the rest of the 'verse, can be found here
Link to Prompt Table: On my LJ, here

OOO

“Good morning…or good afternoon, I should say.” The sudden cold draft hit him like a bucket of ice water, and Seamus sat straight up with a gasp, blinking in the bright winter sunlight that nearly blinded him. It took a moment to place the voice, to match it to the backlit outline of the matronly figure standing with her arms crossed and her head tilted in amusement in the barn door, but it finally came to him at the exact moment that he realized something else.

He was naked. Completely naked, and the warm something that had been pressing against his right side and was now scrabbling upright beside him was Susan. Who was also naked.

Seamus felt his face blanch to what must have been an alarming white as he looked around quickly, snatching at the first piece of clothing he could find without even bothering to see what or whose it was. “Fiona!”

She stepped inside, closing the door behind her with a chuckle as she watched the two of them hurrying futilely to cover themselves, as if it could hope to conceal what had obviously taken place. “Oh, nothing I havenae seen ‘afore, but glad I didnae send tha lass come after ye. Take it ye had a fine night?”

“I…I…I’m so sorry!” Susan sputtered, her eyes so wide that the deep brown was completely ringed in white. “I…we....”

“Just put yer clothes on and git up tae the house, and I’ll nae say a word tae Duncan.” To his great relief, Fiona did not seem in the least angry at them, or even surprised, for that matter, but his heart was still pounding as he searched the straw for his shorts. How…never mind. He remembered them coming off, that much was for certain, and what had happened immediately thereafter he definitely remembered, so how they had wound up on the pitchfork was entirely irrelevant. Fiona noticed where his gaze had fallen and laughed, plucking them down and tossing them to him. “There. Ye can give Susan her skirt back, now, ‘less ye think ye need go Scots of a sudden.”

“Thank ya, Fiona,” Seamus squirmed into the garment quickly, then handed Susan back what he discovered now was indeed her skirt that he had first wrapped hastily around his hips. “I swear –“

“Nae a word more, laddie.” Fiona shook her head fondly, returning to the door. “I’ll be on. And Susan, dearie?”

“Yes?” Susan had managed to regain her composure quite impressively, but it was somewhat belied by the fact that her voice sounded as if someone had stepped on a Pygmy Puff.

“Knew ye had good taste. Nicest bum I’ve seen on a man since Duncan was in his glory days.”

He had never considered himself someone who embarrassed easily, but Seamus knew that his face was flaming as she shut the door behind her, and he licked his lips, turning sheepishly to Susan. “So…er…now what?”

Her face was just as red, and her mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, her eyes tracing his still half-naked body, the scattered straw, the empty bottle on the floor at their feet before she took a deep breath, drawing her shoulders back as her chin thrust out defiantly. “Well, I see three options for us, really. First: we pretend this never happened. We were drunk, we were tired, neither of us has gotten shagged in years, and thank Merlin Fiona is willing to let that be a possibility.”

Seamus shook his head, offering her a sock that could have been either of theirs from the edge of the nearest stall as he bent to pull on his trousers. “Don’t be likin’ that one so much, I’ll tell ya – is that me belt? - true. Sommat did happen, Sue, and while we may not’ve been – ya got a whole mess’a straw in your hair, there – sober’s all that, we weren’t flat ouva neither.”

“All right.” Susan sighed, and he knew she was as grateful as he for the excuse to avoid having to make actual eye contact just yet. “Number two: it did happen, but that doesn’t mean we have to go leaping ahead of ourselves. Have you seen my bra? We accept that there’s something between us, but we take it one step at a time without needing to make some kind of big announcement to the world.”

“Likin’ that better.” He nodded. “Here ‘tis. Want me grab ya a bit o’ twine for your hair? Reckon our bands’re hopeless gone. And three?”

“Yes, thank you. Three: we decide we’ve wasted enough time – this boot’s yours – and we’re a couple now and full steam ahead. Tell Cecily, tell the Macmillans, tell the DA – try to ignore how many bets get paid off – and damn the consequences.”

“Much’s there’s a part o’ me keen for that one – Shite!” He jerked back from where he had knelt to grab his second boot, something pointy having jabbed him harshly in the kneecap and let off a fierce crack of sparks. “Found your wand, I did. I’m votin’ for two and a half, meself.”

“Lucky you didn’t sit on it,” She gave him a tentatively teasing smile as she took it, tucking it securely into the waistband of her skirt. “But I don’t remember a two and a half.”

“We tell Cecily and the Macmillans that we’ve feelin’s for each other, and if we want to snog it ain’t no earth-shatterin’ deal, but we leave room ‘nuff hopefully no one gets hurt too bad.” He knotted the bit of twine to pull his hair back into a rough, hasty ponytail, then stopped, turning to face Susan directly. Nervous or not, this was too important to be behaving like flustered teenagers, and he placed both hands evenly on her shoulders, looking directly into her eyes with all the love, all the devotion he had ever felt for her open in his own.

Her hands had been busy with the buttons of her sweater, but they dropped away, first hovering uncertainly, then wrapping at his waist with an ease to the casual embrace that caught the breath in his throat more than anything they had done the night before. “I love ya, true enough I do,” he said quietly, “but that ain’t no guarantee o’ nothin’, and your daughter come first…I don’t want no mess for her if’t turns out we’re better’s friends.” He tried to soften the words with a faint smile, feathering what wasn’t quite a kiss over the edge of her lips. “No matter what that lovely mouth o’ yours can do.”

She kissed him back, not deeply, but there was something in it wonderfully deeper than passion alone. “I love you too, but you’re right, and I think two and a half works beautifully.”

His arms had slid from her shoulders to hold her more loosely against him, and he didn’t want to let her go, not ever, but the sun was high and bright through the windows, and he made himself pull away, turning to take the heavy outer cloak that still hung on its hook as the only article of clothing sensibly abandoned. “What about consequences, though? I ain’t wantin’ to put all ya’ve worked for with the Fund and all the good it’s done our friends t’naught because the virtuous benefactor’s beddin’ a convict.”

“That would be a disaster,” she agreed, but he scarcely had time to wince before she was beside him, collecting her own cloak with a soft, hopeful smile. “But maybe not so much so if the proud young widow discovers the heart of gold in the wild Irish outlaw serving his debt to society on the lonely Highland moors?”

He laughed despite himself, shaking his head. “Ya make it sound like a bloody Fifi LaFolle novel!”

“Sally-Anne’s a genius. She’s actually had something ready for over a year.”

Seamus raised an eyebrow curiously at her as he fastened the clasp at his throat. “She knew, then?”

“She worried,” Susan shrugged lightly. “The two of us practically alone up here…she thought someone might try to start a rumor.”

They were both fully dressed now, he knew it was time to get back to the farmhouse and tackle the work of a day already half-gone, but the barn was warm and quiet, and it felt like as long as they remained, all the worries of the world outside could stay safely nothing more than theory. She seemed no more eager to leave, and he reached out, caressing her cheek with the side of his hand. “I reckon that someone might be us.”

“Might be.”

She had turned her head to kiss his fingers, and he couldn’t help himself, taking a step forward until they were only inches apart, the hand now cupping her face to draw her lips against his. “And if that wild Irish outlaw were to steal into the cold solitude o’ your chaste bedchamber and lay devilish threat to your virtue again? Slip his rough fingers through your cascadin’ raven tresses as your skin shines in the moonlight like the pearl-eddied swirls o’ Amortentia?”

Susan laughed, pulling back to stare at him in mock horror. “Dear Merlin, don’t tell me you’ve read those things!”

“I were an only child, love,” he shrugged, giving her his cheekiest, most charming wink. “Only child o’ a single Mam, and I spent an awful lot o’ time in bed sick. She had loads o’ them, she did. But ya tell another livin’ soul, I don’t reckon I’d have trouble getting’ folk t’believe me denyin’ it.”

“Don’t worry,” the amusement was still there, but her voice had dropped to a low whisper, and she came forward again, and now it was her hand that traced the edge of his face, pushing back the strands of hair that had escaped his crude ponytail. “I’ll keep your scandalous secret if you’ll keep mine.”

“What’s that?”

“That the answer is; I’d like that very much.”

THE END

"Keeping Secrets" Susan/Seamus 10/13

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