Fic: Steady
Count: 1,075
Notes: Prequel to Bill/Sirius. More endless nattering.
"Did Mum ask you to come home for Christmas?" Charlie waited until Bill looked up at him to grab the last kalamarakia on the plate, earning him a glare and a playful jab from Bill's fork.
"No, not this year. I think she's sick of me saying no, to tell you the truth. Did she ask you?"
"Not yet. Dad's been hinting around at it, though. 'You know, your mother would really love it if you came home for Christmas this year,' 'we never see you anymore, you know we're just a portkey away,' that sort of thing."
Bill ran his hand through his loose hair, pushing most of it back over his shoulder. "Or they could always bring the whole family to visit you out at the Dragon Palace. Image that - Ginny, Ron, the twins, Mum and Dad - all of them squeezed into your tiny shack for a week or two. Someone will be murdered before they leave, you know."
"It's not a shack, as you well know. And stop calling it the Dragon Palace."
"It's not big enough for six or seven people, either. We have enough problems getting to sleep when it's just the two of us, and we're cosier than I'd usually like to get with Mum and Dad."
"I suppose this is your way of telling me I should go there, then?" Charlie drank the last of his ouzo and sat back in his chair, enjoying the restaurant's excellent view over the Saronic Gulf.
"If you like. It's always so loud and cramped in the house, and everyone wants you there to talk to..."
"Don't give me that. You know you love the attention. The first Christmas after you left school you're the one who told Ron and Ginny so many stories about the Egyptian curses that neither of them could sleep anywhere but with you. 'Oh, Bill's the only one who can protect us. What if the mummies try to come in through the chimney?' What a lot of rot. Honestly, Bill."
Bill laughed, again playing with his hair as he cast a glance at the next table to see if the two young ladies sitting there were noticing. They were, of course, as they always would be when Bill was around. Charlie crossed his arms and sighed.
Bill's glance was like a spotlight. "Last year I seem to recall someone going out at all hours to play quidditch with the twins. In fact, if I'm remembering correctly, you even took the blame when they broke two of the upstairs windows. I'm not the only one going out for brother of the year award, you know. We are family, after all. It's not that I don't love them, and love seeing them. It's just that it can be a bit much, sometimes, having everyone together."
"To say nothing of the lovely time you have in Egypt, and the hordes of women that will inevitably mourn your going, even just for a few days." Charlie eyed the young Greeks at the next table and shook his head.
"You might have a point there, as much as it pains me to admit it when you're being so hypocritical. Exactly how many people have you brought back to that shack of yours at the end of a long day of dragon tending?"
Charlie opened his mouth and then snapped it shut again, reconsidering.
"Exactly. We are neither of us saints, dear brother, but at least I'm willing to own up to it. Yes, I get lonely in Egypt. Maybe I'm not the sort of person who can be alone for very long without having some kind of arrangement. I try not to hurt anyone, and I think that's all anyone can ask of me." There was a slight edge to the last sentence, and Charlie acknowledged the point with a shrug.
"I don't think I'm anywhere near your level, but all right. You're just lucky Mum and Dad haven't started in on you about settling down yet. You're meant to be the steady eldest brother. All their hopes are pinned on you. They probably already have visions of grandchildren dancing in their heads..."
Bill grimaced and poured himself another drink. "I wish I could believe that you're off your tits, but I expect you're right. I'm not their only hope, though. Every once in a while Mum does ask me if you're seeing anyone. No doubt Mum's got girls in mind for both of us to meet if we do go home for a holiday."
They both shuddered and looked out over the water. The sun was just kissing the horizon, accentuating all the tiny fishing boats coming home for the evening.
Eventually Charlie broke the comfortable silence. "So you're not going home for Christmas, then?"
Bill chuckled, draining last of the ouzo. "No. If you go this year, I promise I'll go next year. Or maybe have them all to Egypt for a bit. Although summer might be better for that, now that I think of it."
Charlie's eyebrows shot up, shocked. "All of them in the tents?"
"There's nothing wrong with the tents. They're very warm and sand-proofed. You never complain when you come to visit."
Charlie rolled his eyes, tossing a bit of cash onto the table. "No more than you complain about the shack."
"I only said it smelled like dragon arse once. Once! You can't hold that against me. It does smell like dragon arse."
Bill added his half to Charlie's money and stood, stretching. "I quite liked this place. We should meet here again next week."
"I thought next week we were going back to that place in Rome with the waitress who fancies you."
"Right. We'll come here the week after, then. She's too lovely to ignore any longer, don't you think?"
"I think you are eminently predictable. I'll owl Mum, I suppose, and tell her to expect me this year. Don't think I'll forget about your promise for next year, either. You owe me."
Bill came round the table and put an arm over Charlie's shoulders. "Char, I'm the steady eldest brother. You know I'll honour my promises." He pressed his lips to Charlie's forehead and glanced around to make sure they were alone before Disapparating with a pop.
The last thing he heard was Charlie's voice. "You'd better. I won't hesitate to contaminate your tent with dragon arse, if need be."
Notes: Prequel to Bill/Sirius. More endless nattering.
"Did Mum ask you to come home for Christmas?" Charlie waited until Bill looked up at him to grab the last kalamarakia on the plate, earning him a glare and a playful jab from Bill's fork.
"No, not this year. I think she's sick of me saying no, to tell you the truth. Did she ask you?"
"Not yet. Dad's been hinting around at it, though. 'You know, your mother would really love it if you came home for Christmas this year,' 'we never see you anymore, you know we're just a portkey away,' that sort of thing."
Bill ran his hand through his loose hair, pushing most of it back over his shoulder. "Or they could always bring the whole family to visit you out at the Dragon Palace. Image that - Ginny, Ron, the twins, Mum and Dad - all of them squeezed into your tiny shack for a week or two. Someone will be murdered before they leave, you know."
"It's not a shack, as you well know. And stop calling it the Dragon Palace."
"It's not big enough for six or seven people, either. We have enough problems getting to sleep when it's just the two of us, and we're cosier than I'd usually like to get with Mum and Dad."
"I suppose this is your way of telling me I should go there, then?" Charlie drank the last of his ouzo and sat back in his chair, enjoying the restaurant's excellent view over the Saronic Gulf.
"If you like. It's always so loud and cramped in the house, and everyone wants you there to talk to..."
"Don't give me that. You know you love the attention. The first Christmas after you left school you're the one who told Ron and Ginny so many stories about the Egyptian curses that neither of them could sleep anywhere but with you. 'Oh, Bill's the only one who can protect us. What if the mummies try to come in through the chimney?' What a lot of rot. Honestly, Bill."
Bill laughed, again playing with his hair as he cast a glance at the next table to see if the two young ladies sitting there were noticing. They were, of course, as they always would be when Bill was around. Charlie crossed his arms and sighed.
Bill's glance was like a spotlight. "Last year I seem to recall someone going out at all hours to play quidditch with the twins. In fact, if I'm remembering correctly, you even took the blame when they broke two of the upstairs windows. I'm not the only one going out for brother of the year award, you know. We are family, after all. It's not that I don't love them, and love seeing them. It's just that it can be a bit much, sometimes, having everyone together."
"To say nothing of the lovely time you have in Egypt, and the hordes of women that will inevitably mourn your going, even just for a few days." Charlie eyed the young Greeks at the next table and shook his head.
"You might have a point there, as much as it pains me to admit it when you're being so hypocritical. Exactly how many people have you brought back to that shack of yours at the end of a long day of dragon tending?"
Charlie opened his mouth and then snapped it shut again, reconsidering.
"Exactly. We are neither of us saints, dear brother, but at least I'm willing to own up to it. Yes, I get lonely in Egypt. Maybe I'm not the sort of person who can be alone for very long without having some kind of arrangement. I try not to hurt anyone, and I think that's all anyone can ask of me." There was a slight edge to the last sentence, and Charlie acknowledged the point with a shrug.
"I don't think I'm anywhere near your level, but all right. You're just lucky Mum and Dad haven't started in on you about settling down yet. You're meant to be the steady eldest brother. All their hopes are pinned on you. They probably already have visions of grandchildren dancing in their heads..."
Bill grimaced and poured himself another drink. "I wish I could believe that you're off your tits, but I expect you're right. I'm not their only hope, though. Every once in a while Mum does ask me if you're seeing anyone. No doubt Mum's got girls in mind for both of us to meet if we do go home for a holiday."
They both shuddered and looked out over the water. The sun was just kissing the horizon, accentuating all the tiny fishing boats coming home for the evening.
Eventually Charlie broke the comfortable silence. "So you're not going home for Christmas, then?"
Bill chuckled, draining last of the ouzo. "No. If you go this year, I promise I'll go next year. Or maybe have them all to Egypt for a bit. Although summer might be better for that, now that I think of it."
Charlie's eyebrows shot up, shocked. "All of them in the tents?"
"There's nothing wrong with the tents. They're very warm and sand-proofed. You never complain when you come to visit."
Charlie rolled his eyes, tossing a bit of cash onto the table. "No more than you complain about the shack."
"I only said it smelled like dragon arse once. Once! You can't hold that against me. It does smell like dragon arse."
Bill added his half to Charlie's money and stood, stretching. "I quite liked this place. We should meet here again next week."
"I thought next week we were going back to that place in Rome with the waitress who fancies you."
"Right. We'll come here the week after, then. She's too lovely to ignore any longer, don't you think?"
"I think you are eminently predictable. I'll owl Mum, I suppose, and tell her to expect me this year. Don't think I'll forget about your promise for next year, either. You owe me."
Bill came round the table and put an arm over Charlie's shoulders. "Char, I'm the steady eldest brother. You know I'll honour my promises." He pressed his lips to Charlie's forehead and glanced around to make sure they were alone before Disapparating with a pop.
The last thing he heard was Charlie's voice. "You'd better. I won't hesitate to contaminate your tent with dragon arse, if need be."