Is a title really necessary? (Excuses, excuses) - Part 1
Title: Is a title really necessary? (Excuses, excuses)
Author:
chiara_515
Summary: James witnesses a scene he was never supposed to know about; Remus has to set him straight on a few issues.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Excessive use of mild profanity, minor sexual references
Prompts: Tune (okay, I cheated - "attuned") and "Our doubts are traitors / And make us lose the good we oft might win / By fearing to attempt." Measure for Measure, 1.4
Word Count: 4,930 total
Author's Note: Apparently this is too long to just be one post? Sorry... Also, I really hate pigeon-holing my fics into genres, so I'm sorry if you disagree with my tag choices. I think it has a little bit of angst, some romance, but nothing sappy, and I think some parts are funny in a weird way, but I'm probably the only one who things so...
The ribbon in her hair was blue.
Just like that satin lining…
James involuntarily clutched the roll of parchment in his hand tighter, then winced at the sound. Damn.
The blonde in front of him glanced at the other young man standing in the lift, who, thankfully, had an armful of parchment and file folders. She shot him a small smile, which he tried to return, but only managed to drop two folders in his surprise.
James jumped back out of the way as the other two reached for the flying parchment, inadvertently nudging the loose handrail at the back of the lift, causing it to squeak and rattle loudly in protest.
Damn, damn, damn.
The young couple jerked their heads around at the noise, and James held his breath.
After a moment, the girl with the blue ribbon laughed rather nervously. “Get worse everyday, these old lifts, don’t they? I’ve half a mind to start taking the stairs!”
James started breathing again as the young man just gaped at her. He shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts. Focus. He had to focus. He was on a job here; he could not afford to get distracted.
The lift slowed, and the familiar voice announced that they had reached Level Three. James sighed. Had they really only gone one floor?
He silently swore again as the doors opened and revealed at least half a dozen people waiting to enter the lift. There was no way he could conceal his presence with that many people crammed in. Luckily, the awkward young man with the parchment was exiting on this floor, so James hurried after him, thankful that the waiting crowd was giving the precariously balanced stack of parchment a wide berth.
The lift doors closed, leaving James stranded in the corridor. He paced silently for a few moments, wishing he could accio someone to come and call another lift. Finally, giving up, he headed toward the stairs, and found himself facing a blank wall.
Damn.
Why did the stupid stairs have to be in a different place on each floor?
James turned a few more corners, looking for other likely places where they might have hidden the stairs. After only a minute, he was completely lost, wandering aimlessly with no idea of even how to get back to the lift.
Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks, inadvertently crumpling his parchment again.
He would know that sound anywhere.
Involuntarily, as if drawn by some unseen force, he turned and followed the echoes through the winding corridor…
It was her, of course; James had known that without a doubt. Yes, it was her, and yet it was not…
She sat perched on the edge of a desk in the large office, her pose belying the rest of her appearance, which suggested she was every inch the responsible ministry employee.
James nearly forgot to breathe as he drank in her image, in all its familiarity and foreignness. Smart black shoes peeked out from under the hem of her professional grey trousers. Regulation ministry robes covered most of her attire, but he recognized the soft black turtleneck of her jumper rising above the neckline of the robes.
Just like the velvet on the box…
But it was her hair, as always, that most captivated his attention: the long red tresses, usually left hanging down her back, were instead coiled in a knot at the back of her head. The look would have been severe on some, but on her, it could only be described as elegant.
It was Lily as she could have been: Lily the brilliant-head-girl-turned-prestigious-ministry-researcher, not Lily the proud-political-activist-turned-brave-underground-spy…
She was laughing - that was the sound that had caught him - smirking up at the sandy-haired young man that stood before her.
“And what makes you think that my life is so boring that it needs to be livened up?” she quipped rather coyly, one of her eyebrows climbing her forehead.
“Well, you were sent up here for three months,” the man replied, smiling down at her. “This can’t possibly be more interesting than working down on the ninth floor… What did you do down there anyway?”
Her eyebrows climbed higher. “You do know that there’s a reason why people who work there are called ‘unspeakables’, don’t you?” she asked dryly.
“All right, all right,” the young man laughed, “but you must admit that it’s pretty damn boring up here. Wouldn’t you like the next ten weeks of your life to be exciting, even if you are away from your normal job?”
“What makes you think that work is the only exciting thing in my life?” she countered archly.
He gave her a look. “Your personal life can’t be that exciting, Evans,” he teased. “Aren’t you still dating that Potter git?”
James’ eyes narrowed.
“Git?” she repeated, giving him a mock-warning look that was not in the least discouraging.
“Oh, sorry,” he casually amended. “I meant, aren’t you still dating that slacker-who-lives-off-his-father’s-money-and-can’t-let-go-of-his-glory-days-of-Hogwarts-quidditch, Potter?”
James’ scowl deepened, but Lily still smirked back at the idiot. “Maybe I like slackers who live off of their fathers’ money and can’t let go of their glory days of Hogwarts quidditch…”
The young man’s oily grin widened and he leaned in a little closer to her. “You know, Evans,” he murmured, “there’s a whole line of much more desirable blokes waiting to cater to your every whim anytime you want them…”
Lily’s eyebrows rose again, but she said nothing.
James actually took a step forward, wanting nothing more than to hex the smarmy prat to smithereens.
“Why are you still with him anyway?” the git continued.
Lily considered him for a moment, then shrugged. “Why not?” she quipped indifferently.
James stared at her, frozen in horror at her casual dismissal of their life together. He knew her flirtation was an act - she was on a job after all, too, but the man’s question had crossed an invisible line in his mind. Had she no desire to stand up for him? Them? Would she really take her act this far?
Or was that really how she felt…? Was he just a casual fling to her? A security blanket? A link to a past she wasn’t quite ready to forget? James continued to gape at her as the questions assailed him, his anger with the stupid young man completely forgotten. He was too shocked to even walk away.
“Why not??” the man was repeating. “Because, like I said, there are loads of other blokes who would be more than able to fill that role! Come on, Evans,” he wheedled, lowering his voice and leaning in even more. “What’s he got that’s so great? Is it the money? Lots of people are rich… Security? That’s overrated. What is it?”
With every question he had lessened the distance between them, but Lily sat calmly ignoring his invasion of her personal space, a dry smile still gracing her features.
“Is it that he’s good in the sack? Like, really good? ‘Cause he certainly doesn’t have a monopoly on that either…” His tone was an unctuous whisper now. “And you know what they say: variety is the spice of life. Everyone needs a little recreation now and then… What do you say?”
Lily stared at him in silence for a moment longer. “You know what I would really like?” she asked, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial murmur.
“What?” he breathed, grinning wider.
“Getting those reports that you owe me on time…” she replied, her expression never wavering.
There was a pause, then he moved away from her, laughing. “A feat I’m sure Potter would be incapable of performing…” he remarked, clearly not willing to admit total defeat as yet.
Lily was still smiling her wry smile. “Think of the nice change it will make for me.”
The young man withdrew, leaving Lily alone in the office. James’ eyes followed her as she moved to a file cabinet, then back to her desk, sitting at it properly this time and calmly opening one of the file-folders she had retrieved.
His mind was still reeling. Who was this polished, sophisticated Lily sitting before him, seeming perfectly at ease and at home in this setting? Who was this woman who flirted so outrageously and hardly batted an eye at such forward behavior from a relative stranger? His Lily would have hexed the bits off of anyone who propositioned her…
James stared intently at her, willing her to feel his presence, willing her to break the façade, to show some sign that this was truly an act, and she was still her normal self, still the same old Lily - still his Lily…
The minutes ticked by as the stack of parchment at Lily’s elbow grew. She was the perfect image of the competent, efficient ministry worker, now. Try though he might, James’ gaze could affect no change in her cool composure. It was painful to watch her, to continue to see a stranger behind the familiar exterior, and yet he could not muster the courage to walk away, to leave her.
A brush against his arm startled James from his reverie.
Damn!
He jumped back quickly, horrified that he had allowed himself to be so careless. A very short, extremely skinny young man had entered the office with an armful of file folders. The man seemed entirely oblivious to his encounter with James as he walked up to Lily’s desk and rifled through the folders.
James breathed a sigh of relief as the two began discussing various documents. That had been far too close.
“These three shouldn’t have come to me at all; they go to Wilkins in the South Office,” Professional-Lily was calmly explaining. “She’s dealing with everything on that case.”
“Sorry, Miss Evans,” the young man apologized. “Cooper said they were all to go to you. Is it just these four, then, that you need?”
“Yes, just these.” Lily selected a few of the folders. “And don’t worry about getting those files to Wilkins; I’ll do it.”
“Thanks, Miss Evans. Anything I can take care of for you?”
“Well,” Lily seemed to consider for a moment. “I do need all of these taken down to the fifth floor, if you happen to be headed in that direction…” She smiled at him.
“I am now,” he replied, returning her smile and taking the stack of parchment from her.
“Thanks, Martin.”
James flattened himself against the wall as the young man passed him, then turned, and with one last glance back at the beautiful stranger once again seated at the desk, he followed the courier back through the labyrinth of corridors.
The young man was whistling tunelessly by the time they reached the lift, but James was far too abstracted to be annoyed. His mind replayed the scene he had just witnessed over and over and over again, slowly torturing him. A few interdepartmental memos hovered around the light outside the lift, making it twinkle and dance.
Just like… Just like…
Oh damn.
James clenched his fists and was surprised by the jolt of pain shooting up his arm. He had not noticed the death-grip he had had on his roll of parchment, which was now a wrinkled mess…
Thuds and groans announced the arrival of the - thankfully empty - lift, at last. James entered with the whistling young man, who was succeeded by two gossipy witches headed out for lunch. They reached the eighth floor and James made a bee-line for the apparition area. He took only one cursory glance around to ensure that there was at least some noise to cover the sound of his apparition before turning on the spot, wishing only to get as far away from the hateful ministry as possible.
*******
Author:
chiara_515
Summary: James witnesses a scene he was never supposed to know about; Remus has to set him straight on a few issues.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Excessive use of mild profanity, minor sexual references
Prompts: Tune (okay, I cheated - "attuned") and "Our doubts are traitors / And make us lose the good we oft might win / By fearing to attempt." Measure for Measure, 1.4
Word Count: 4,930 total
Author's Note: Apparently this is too long to just be one post? Sorry... Also, I really hate pigeon-holing my fics into genres, so I'm sorry if you disagree with my tag choices. I think it has a little bit of angst, some romance, but nothing sappy, and I think some parts are funny in a weird way, but I'm probably the only one who things so...
The ribbon in her hair was blue.
Just like that satin lining…
James involuntarily clutched the roll of parchment in his hand tighter, then winced at the sound. Damn.
The blonde in front of him glanced at the other young man standing in the lift, who, thankfully, had an armful of parchment and file folders. She shot him a small smile, which he tried to return, but only managed to drop two folders in his surprise.
James jumped back out of the way as the other two reached for the flying parchment, inadvertently nudging the loose handrail at the back of the lift, causing it to squeak and rattle loudly in protest.
Damn, damn, damn.
The young couple jerked their heads around at the noise, and James held his breath.
After a moment, the girl with the blue ribbon laughed rather nervously. “Get worse everyday, these old lifts, don’t they? I’ve half a mind to start taking the stairs!”
James started breathing again as the young man just gaped at her. He shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts. Focus. He had to focus. He was on a job here; he could not afford to get distracted.
The lift slowed, and the familiar voice announced that they had reached Level Three. James sighed. Had they really only gone one floor?
He silently swore again as the doors opened and revealed at least half a dozen people waiting to enter the lift. There was no way he could conceal his presence with that many people crammed in. Luckily, the awkward young man with the parchment was exiting on this floor, so James hurried after him, thankful that the waiting crowd was giving the precariously balanced stack of parchment a wide berth.
The lift doors closed, leaving James stranded in the corridor. He paced silently for a few moments, wishing he could accio someone to come and call another lift. Finally, giving up, he headed toward the stairs, and found himself facing a blank wall.
Damn.
Why did the stupid stairs have to be in a different place on each floor?
James turned a few more corners, looking for other likely places where they might have hidden the stairs. After only a minute, he was completely lost, wandering aimlessly with no idea of even how to get back to the lift.
Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks, inadvertently crumpling his parchment again.
He would know that sound anywhere.
Involuntarily, as if drawn by some unseen force, he turned and followed the echoes through the winding corridor…
It was her, of course; James had known that without a doubt. Yes, it was her, and yet it was not…
She sat perched on the edge of a desk in the large office, her pose belying the rest of her appearance, which suggested she was every inch the responsible ministry employee.
James nearly forgot to breathe as he drank in her image, in all its familiarity and foreignness. Smart black shoes peeked out from under the hem of her professional grey trousers. Regulation ministry robes covered most of her attire, but he recognized the soft black turtleneck of her jumper rising above the neckline of the robes.
Just like the velvet on the box…
But it was her hair, as always, that most captivated his attention: the long red tresses, usually left hanging down her back, were instead coiled in a knot at the back of her head. The look would have been severe on some, but on her, it could only be described as elegant.
It was Lily as she could have been: Lily the brilliant-head-girl-turned-prestigious-ministry-researcher, not Lily the proud-political-activist-turned-brave-underground-spy…
She was laughing - that was the sound that had caught him - smirking up at the sandy-haired young man that stood before her.
“And what makes you think that my life is so boring that it needs to be livened up?” she quipped rather coyly, one of her eyebrows climbing her forehead.
“Well, you were sent up here for three months,” the man replied, smiling down at her. “This can’t possibly be more interesting than working down on the ninth floor… What did you do down there anyway?”
Her eyebrows climbed higher. “You do know that there’s a reason why people who work there are called ‘unspeakables’, don’t you?” she asked dryly.
“All right, all right,” the young man laughed, “but you must admit that it’s pretty damn boring up here. Wouldn’t you like the next ten weeks of your life to be exciting, even if you are away from your normal job?”
“What makes you think that work is the only exciting thing in my life?” she countered archly.
He gave her a look. “Your personal life can’t be that exciting, Evans,” he teased. “Aren’t you still dating that Potter git?”
James’ eyes narrowed.
“Git?” she repeated, giving him a mock-warning look that was not in the least discouraging.
“Oh, sorry,” he casually amended. “I meant, aren’t you still dating that slacker-who-lives-off-his-father’s-money-and-can’t-let-go-of-his-glory-days-of-Hogwarts-quidditch, Potter?”
James’ scowl deepened, but Lily still smirked back at the idiot. “Maybe I like slackers who live off of their fathers’ money and can’t let go of their glory days of Hogwarts quidditch…”
The young man’s oily grin widened and he leaned in a little closer to her. “You know, Evans,” he murmured, “there’s a whole line of much more desirable blokes waiting to cater to your every whim anytime you want them…”
Lily’s eyebrows rose again, but she said nothing.
James actually took a step forward, wanting nothing more than to hex the smarmy prat to smithereens.
“Why are you still with him anyway?” the git continued.
Lily considered him for a moment, then shrugged. “Why not?” she quipped indifferently.
James stared at her, frozen in horror at her casual dismissal of their life together. He knew her flirtation was an act - she was on a job after all, too, but the man’s question had crossed an invisible line in his mind. Had she no desire to stand up for him? Them? Would she really take her act this far?
Or was that really how she felt…? Was he just a casual fling to her? A security blanket? A link to a past she wasn’t quite ready to forget? James continued to gape at her as the questions assailed him, his anger with the stupid young man completely forgotten. He was too shocked to even walk away.
“Why not??” the man was repeating. “Because, like I said, there are loads of other blokes who would be more than able to fill that role! Come on, Evans,” he wheedled, lowering his voice and leaning in even more. “What’s he got that’s so great? Is it the money? Lots of people are rich… Security? That’s overrated. What is it?”
With every question he had lessened the distance between them, but Lily sat calmly ignoring his invasion of her personal space, a dry smile still gracing her features.
“Is it that he’s good in the sack? Like, really good? ‘Cause he certainly doesn’t have a monopoly on that either…” His tone was an unctuous whisper now. “And you know what they say: variety is the spice of life. Everyone needs a little recreation now and then… What do you say?”
Lily stared at him in silence for a moment longer. “You know what I would really like?” she asked, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial murmur.
“What?” he breathed, grinning wider.
“Getting those reports that you owe me on time…” she replied, her expression never wavering.
There was a pause, then he moved away from her, laughing. “A feat I’m sure Potter would be incapable of performing…” he remarked, clearly not willing to admit total defeat as yet.
Lily was still smiling her wry smile. “Think of the nice change it will make for me.”
The young man withdrew, leaving Lily alone in the office. James’ eyes followed her as she moved to a file cabinet, then back to her desk, sitting at it properly this time and calmly opening one of the file-folders she had retrieved.
His mind was still reeling. Who was this polished, sophisticated Lily sitting before him, seeming perfectly at ease and at home in this setting? Who was this woman who flirted so outrageously and hardly batted an eye at such forward behavior from a relative stranger? His Lily would have hexed the bits off of anyone who propositioned her…
James stared intently at her, willing her to feel his presence, willing her to break the façade, to show some sign that this was truly an act, and she was still her normal self, still the same old Lily - still his Lily…
The minutes ticked by as the stack of parchment at Lily’s elbow grew. She was the perfect image of the competent, efficient ministry worker, now. Try though he might, James’ gaze could affect no change in her cool composure. It was painful to watch her, to continue to see a stranger behind the familiar exterior, and yet he could not muster the courage to walk away, to leave her.
A brush against his arm startled James from his reverie.
Damn!
He jumped back quickly, horrified that he had allowed himself to be so careless. A very short, extremely skinny young man had entered the office with an armful of file folders. The man seemed entirely oblivious to his encounter with James as he walked up to Lily’s desk and rifled through the folders.
James breathed a sigh of relief as the two began discussing various documents. That had been far too close.
“These three shouldn’t have come to me at all; they go to Wilkins in the South Office,” Professional-Lily was calmly explaining. “She’s dealing with everything on that case.”
“Sorry, Miss Evans,” the young man apologized. “Cooper said they were all to go to you. Is it just these four, then, that you need?”
“Yes, just these.” Lily selected a few of the folders. “And don’t worry about getting those files to Wilkins; I’ll do it.”
“Thanks, Miss Evans. Anything I can take care of for you?”
“Well,” Lily seemed to consider for a moment. “I do need all of these taken down to the fifth floor, if you happen to be headed in that direction…” She smiled at him.
“I am now,” he replied, returning her smile and taking the stack of parchment from her.
“Thanks, Martin.”
James flattened himself against the wall as the young man passed him, then turned, and with one last glance back at the beautiful stranger once again seated at the desk, he followed the courier back through the labyrinth of corridors.
The young man was whistling tunelessly by the time they reached the lift, but James was far too abstracted to be annoyed. His mind replayed the scene he had just witnessed over and over and over again, slowly torturing him. A few interdepartmental memos hovered around the light outside the lift, making it twinkle and dance.
Just like… Just like…
Oh damn.
James clenched his fists and was surprised by the jolt of pain shooting up his arm. He had not noticed the death-grip he had had on his roll of parchment, which was now a wrinkled mess…
Thuds and groans announced the arrival of the - thankfully empty - lift, at last. James entered with the whistling young man, who was succeeded by two gossipy witches headed out for lunch. They reached the eighth floor and James made a bee-line for the apparition area. He took only one cursory glance around to ensure that there was at least some noise to cover the sound of his apparition before turning on the spot, wishing only to get as far away from the hateful ministry as possible.
*******