Ficlet: Office Politics (Rufus/Tonks, PG)
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rarepair_shortsTitle: Office Politics
Character Pairing: Rufus/Tonks
Prompt: Oh, how I loathe thee (most of the time)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 680
Summary: Tonks despises her girly side, although she has to admit it's helpful when dealing with people she fancies.
Author's Notes: It's helpful but not necessary to have read Midweek beforehand.
Link to Prompt Table: [link]
Tonks had always been a fickle girl, prone to short bouts of histrionics, loud outbursts, and irrational spurts of spontaneity, but overall she considered herself sensible. It was a matter of pride to her; her ability to put away childish emotions and apply herself to the task at hand was a mark of her Hufflepuff diligence, and she was nothing if not proud to be from one of the most underestimated Houses.
Too bad that ability seemed to be failing her. She felt like a fifth year with her first boyfriend, giddy, girly, and stupid.
“It’s business, Tonks,” she told herself firmly. And it was. Never mind the fact that Scrimgeour had only discussed paperwork over lunch once - and then kept coming, kept inviting her out to eat and finding her in the corridors and smirking at her, which completely slayed her and had the side effect of awkward in-office fantasies which weren’t appropriate for an Auror on-duty. Never mind that he was a good thirty years older than her and probably had a wife at home (or a boyfriend, who knew, those Ministry blokes seemed to all be trapped in the same closet).
Tonks ruffled her hair, which was a beguiling shade of lilac today, and eyed her deskwork distrustingly. Scrimgeour may have been her favourite obsession but the man gave piles of documents for her to analyze and sometimes she hated him.
“This is a familiar motif,” came his annoying familiar voice from her doorway. Tonks glanced up and raised an eyebrow at him; he looked far too comfortable there for her comfort. “You, my most kinetic young Auror, glaring at your paperwork, and I, your long-suffering supervisor, waiting for you to finish it.”
“I really hate you sometimes, you know?” said Tonks with a sigh, avoiding his eye as he strode to her desk. Scrimgeour never walked anywhere, really. He either limped or strode, depending on his mood; other adjectives never seemed to fit.
“Yes,” he replied, infuriatingly unruffled, “but so does most of the department.” He picked up a snow globe from her desk and examined the little unicorn inside it. It huffed at him and banged its hooves against the dome. “And even they love me in the end.”
Tonks swallowed. This was veering into territory she didn’t feel like discussing.
“You know, if you shake that, glitter goes everywhere and it’s much prettier,” she pointed out as Scrimgeour set the snow globe gently on her desk.
“I am not much of a glitter person,” he said, and she snorted.
“That’s obvious,” she retorted, attempting to get back to work and watch him at the same time. It resulted in eyestrain and was supremely ineffective.
“Are you coming to lunch?” he asked her, point-blank. Tonks blinked at him in faux surprise; his face was utterly placid, except for those alarming yellow eyes that always seemed to notice more than Tonks especially wanted them to.
“I have work,” she said, and gestured at her desk.
“So I observed,” he said dryly. “Take it with you.”
“All right,” she conceded, although it really hadn’t taken much of an argument to make her say yes. “I’ll meet you in your office, yeah?”
“No,” he said, “we’re going out.”
“Oh.” There seemed to be a flurry of hummingbirds waltzing in her stomach. “Where?”
“Your choice,” he said. Tonks rather thought she heard a smirk in his voice. “I thought the office was becoming a bit boring.”
“Never thought I’d hear you say that,” teased Tonks, who was slightly overcome with a weird form of exhilaration that put her in mind of her teenage years.
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know, Auror,” he countered.
“I look forward to finding out,” she said in a tone rife with implications. She thought she might have seen a flush on her employer’s angular face. Tonks smirked at the idea, and although Scrimgeour gathered himself admirably fast and proceeded her into the corridor, the thought that she might have set the man she fancied off balance was one she liked indeed.
Character Pairing: Rufus/Tonks
Prompt: Oh, how I loathe thee (most of the time)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 680
Summary: Tonks despises her girly side, although she has to admit it's helpful when dealing with people she fancies.
Author's Notes: It's helpful but not necessary to have read Midweek beforehand.
Link to Prompt Table: [link]
Tonks had always been a fickle girl, prone to short bouts of histrionics, loud outbursts, and irrational spurts of spontaneity, but overall she considered herself sensible. It was a matter of pride to her; her ability to put away childish emotions and apply herself to the task at hand was a mark of her Hufflepuff diligence, and she was nothing if not proud to be from one of the most underestimated Houses.
Too bad that ability seemed to be failing her. She felt like a fifth year with her first boyfriend, giddy, girly, and stupid.
“It’s business, Tonks,” she told herself firmly. And it was. Never mind the fact that Scrimgeour had only discussed paperwork over lunch once - and then kept coming, kept inviting her out to eat and finding her in the corridors and smirking at her, which completely slayed her and had the side effect of awkward in-office fantasies which weren’t appropriate for an Auror on-duty. Never mind that he was a good thirty years older than her and probably had a wife at home (or a boyfriend, who knew, those Ministry blokes seemed to all be trapped in the same closet).
Tonks ruffled her hair, which was a beguiling shade of lilac today, and eyed her deskwork distrustingly. Scrimgeour may have been her favourite obsession but the man gave piles of documents for her to analyze and sometimes she hated him.
“This is a familiar motif,” came his annoying familiar voice from her doorway. Tonks glanced up and raised an eyebrow at him; he looked far too comfortable there for her comfort. “You, my most kinetic young Auror, glaring at your paperwork, and I, your long-suffering supervisor, waiting for you to finish it.”
“I really hate you sometimes, you know?” said Tonks with a sigh, avoiding his eye as he strode to her desk. Scrimgeour never walked anywhere, really. He either limped or strode, depending on his mood; other adjectives never seemed to fit.
“Yes,” he replied, infuriatingly unruffled, “but so does most of the department.” He picked up a snow globe from her desk and examined the little unicorn inside it. It huffed at him and banged its hooves against the dome. “And even they love me in the end.”
Tonks swallowed. This was veering into territory she didn’t feel like discussing.
“You know, if you shake that, glitter goes everywhere and it’s much prettier,” she pointed out as Scrimgeour set the snow globe gently on her desk.
“I am not much of a glitter person,” he said, and she snorted.
“That’s obvious,” she retorted, attempting to get back to work and watch him at the same time. It resulted in eyestrain and was supremely ineffective.
“Are you coming to lunch?” he asked her, point-blank. Tonks blinked at him in faux surprise; his face was utterly placid, except for those alarming yellow eyes that always seemed to notice more than Tonks especially wanted them to.
“I have work,” she said, and gestured at her desk.
“So I observed,” he said dryly. “Take it with you.”
“All right,” she conceded, although it really hadn’t taken much of an argument to make her say yes. “I’ll meet you in your office, yeah?”
“No,” he said, “we’re going out.”
“Oh.” There seemed to be a flurry of hummingbirds waltzing in her stomach. “Where?”
“Your choice,” he said. Tonks rather thought she heard a smirk in his voice. “I thought the office was becoming a bit boring.”
“Never thought I’d hear you say that,” teased Tonks, who was slightly overcome with a weird form of exhilaration that put her in mind of her teenage years.
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know, Auror,” he countered.
“I look forward to finding out,” she said in a tone rife with implications. She thought she might have seen a flush on her employer’s angular face. Tonks smirked at the idea, and although Scrimgeour gathered himself admirably fast and proceeded her into the corridor, the thought that she might have set the man she fancied off balance was one she liked indeed.
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