Prompt #17
Title: Cross Words
Author: MrsTater
Format/Word Count: fic, 1150
Rating: PG
Prompt: #17, almost
Summary: "I live vicariously these days."
Author's Note: Sequel to Suspension of Disbelief and Progress. First attempt at Sirius' POV, and I'm not sure how I feel about this one. Concrit appreciated.
Cross Words
"It's over, then."
Tonks' flat tone freezes Sirius outside the drawing room. Over? How in bloody hell can it be over? Remus hasn't even taken her for a date. Has the prat gone and buggered it up already? It would be like him to sabotage a potential romance with stupid notions of being noble.
"Not necessarily," Remus replies mildly. "One can win without one's queen, but it does help if one has one's knights and bishops."
A game of chess - thank Merlin. Sirius heaves a sigh, but while relief washes over him, his perturbation at his mate doesn't ebb. Remus' words are polite, but he's trying not to sound smug. He's never been a bad winner precisely, but victory does go to his head, and it's always hard to lose to him. Tonks has a strong competitive streak, and Moony's not helping himself by annoying the girl.
Tucking his Evening Prophet under his arm, Sirius shoves his hands into his pockets and strides into the room.
"If one plays chess with a lady one fancies," he mimics, "one ought to let the lady win. Or at least one oughtn't patronise her."
His cleverness is rewarded with the sight of Remus' ears going red, but Sirius is aware that the dropped eye contact has broken the sexual tension - and Tonks looks none too pleased.
Pulling a face, she says, "Sod off, Sirius."
"I only came for your help," Sirius retorts. "Who's the Weird Sisters' bagpiper?"
"Are you trying to solve the Prophet crossword again?" Remus asks, cocking an eyebrow.
"I've almost finished!" says Sirius proudly and irritably at once. They can't begrudge him a little help; it's not his fault he hasn't caught up on twelve years of pop culture.
"I'm not helping you," says Tonks. "You're a git. Now sod off."
In spite of the obscene hand gesture Sirius makes, the pair laughs him out of he drawing room.
But just as Sirius is mounting the stairs, Tonks' laughter stops abruptly. Her bright voice filters out to the corridor: "Actually, if one asks a lady for a date after one has trounced her at chess, one goes far in soothing her feelings."
"Does one?" Remus says absently.
Avoiding the creaky floorboard next to the drawing room door, Sirius splays against the wall and turns his head so he can hear the conversation to follow. He's been privy to many occasions of Remus asking girls for dates. How will it go this time? Will he keep his chess game cool and be smooth? Or will he fumble through it? Sirius barely restrains a laugh as he imagines Remus becoming so distressed and distracted with anticipation that he botches the match he's clinched.
Silent minutes tick by, and not a word passes between Remus and Tonks except her curses when he captures more of her pieces. Sirius bites his tongue to keep from shouting, "Get on with it, Moony!" He unfolds his newspaper and stares hard at the almost-completed crossword, wiling himself to recall the bagpiper's name, which he knows he's heard or read. Maybe the Weird Sisters are featured today. He flips through the Prophet.
"Checkmate," says Remus.
"What an upset," comes Tonks' sarcastic reply, but she adds sincerely, "Well played, Remus. I bet you could beat Ron."
Sirius wills Remus to think like him and take advantage of Tonks' bit of flattery. He ought to say, "I'd rather play you, luv, after I take you for dinner." Sirius cringes. Merlin's balls, he's out of practice.
"No one beats Ron," says Remus. "Shall we play again?"
"I've a report to write for Scrimgeour," Tonks replies. "Better get home and write."
Ask her for a rain check, Moony, Sirius silently pleads as he hears the telltale sounds of the chess set being put away. Rain check, rain check.
"Would you like…?" Remus begins.
"Yes?" Tonks asks so eagerly that Sirius can envision her face lighting up. She's such a cute girl. Remus had better appreciate what a lucky bloke he is and ask her for a date.
"If you want…" Remus trails off again.
Sirius chokes back a laugh. He's glad it's going this way. Remus always has been such an entertaining fumbler.
"If you would like," Remus tries for the third time, "you could owl me your report, and I would be happy to proofread it."
"Oh." The deflation in Tonks' voice matches the sinking feeling in Sirius' chest. She says, "I'll be up all night and probably won't finish till the last minute. Thanks, though."
She's trying valiantly but failing miserably at sounding grateful. Sirius is so busy feeling sorry for her and trying to recall if Remus was ever this moronic about a girl, that he's caught unawares when they emerge from the drawing room. The look Tonks shoots him as she whips out her wand makes Sirius momentarily fear the hexing off of particular body parts. Instead, she vanishes his Evening Prophet.
"Oy!" Sirius cries. "I was almost finished with the crossword!"
"The bagpiper's called Gideon Crumb." Tonks bids Remus a stiff good night, then, without further word to Sirius, quits twelve Grimmauld.
"I'll proofread?" Sirius says when she's gone. "That's your line, Moony?"
"Did it ever occur to you, Padfoot," says Remus tolerantly, "that I would know you were eavesdropping?"
"Can you blame me for wanting to hear? I live vicariously these days."
A sympathetic look flickers across Remus' features, but he hardens again, folding his arms across his chest. "Can you blame me for not wanting her to think I was only asking because you put me up to it? We are not teenagers anymore. I've a lot to consider before leaping into things with girls."
Sirius gapes. "You really almost asked, then?"
Remus turns and mounts the staircase.
Dogging him, Sirius says, "Why'd you let me stop you? Didn't you notice how disappointed she was?"
Alighting at the second floor, Remus again doesn't answer, but rounds the corner to his bedroom.
"Moony?" Sirius persists. "Why'd you let her leave angry? Are you pissed at me?"
Hand on the doorknob, Remus turns to him. "If Tonks does go out with me, she inevitably will be disappointed. Better now than later. I am rather pissed at you, but I suppose I should be glad you stopped me from doing something stupid."
"Well I'm pissed at you!"
"Are you?"
Sirius wants to tell Remus the truth, that he doesn't like this self-deprecation any more than Tonks does, but instead he says, "You deprived me of all my entertainment. You didn't ask her out, and then she took it out on me by vanishing my crossword."
Remus takes out his wand as he opens the door. "Accio Prophet." He holds the newspaper out to Sirius. "Have mine. You know the bagpiper's name now."
Sirius replies with his hand, and this time as he stalks away, Remus does not laugh.
Author: MrsTater
Format/Word Count: fic, 1150
Rating: PG
Prompt: #17, almost
Summary: "I live vicariously these days."
Author's Note: Sequel to Suspension of Disbelief and Progress. First attempt at Sirius' POV, and I'm not sure how I feel about this one. Concrit appreciated.
Cross Words
"It's over, then."
Tonks' flat tone freezes Sirius outside the drawing room. Over? How in bloody hell can it be over? Remus hasn't even taken her for a date. Has the prat gone and buggered it up already? It would be like him to sabotage a potential romance with stupid notions of being noble.
"Not necessarily," Remus replies mildly. "One can win without one's queen, but it does help if one has one's knights and bishops."
A game of chess - thank Merlin. Sirius heaves a sigh, but while relief washes over him, his perturbation at his mate doesn't ebb. Remus' words are polite, but he's trying not to sound smug. He's never been a bad winner precisely, but victory does go to his head, and it's always hard to lose to him. Tonks has a strong competitive streak, and Moony's not helping himself by annoying the girl.
Tucking his Evening Prophet under his arm, Sirius shoves his hands into his pockets and strides into the room.
"If one plays chess with a lady one fancies," he mimics, "one ought to let the lady win. Or at least one oughtn't patronise her."
His cleverness is rewarded with the sight of Remus' ears going red, but Sirius is aware that the dropped eye contact has broken the sexual tension - and Tonks looks none too pleased.
Pulling a face, she says, "Sod off, Sirius."
"I only came for your help," Sirius retorts. "Who's the Weird Sisters' bagpiper?"
"Are you trying to solve the Prophet crossword again?" Remus asks, cocking an eyebrow.
"I've almost finished!" says Sirius proudly and irritably at once. They can't begrudge him a little help; it's not his fault he hasn't caught up on twelve years of pop culture.
"I'm not helping you," says Tonks. "You're a git. Now sod off."
In spite of the obscene hand gesture Sirius makes, the pair laughs him out of he drawing room.
But just as Sirius is mounting the stairs, Tonks' laughter stops abruptly. Her bright voice filters out to the corridor: "Actually, if one asks a lady for a date after one has trounced her at chess, one goes far in soothing her feelings."
"Does one?" Remus says absently.
Avoiding the creaky floorboard next to the drawing room door, Sirius splays against the wall and turns his head so he can hear the conversation to follow. He's been privy to many occasions of Remus asking girls for dates. How will it go this time? Will he keep his chess game cool and be smooth? Or will he fumble through it? Sirius barely restrains a laugh as he imagines Remus becoming so distressed and distracted with anticipation that he botches the match he's clinched.
Silent minutes tick by, and not a word passes between Remus and Tonks except her curses when he captures more of her pieces. Sirius bites his tongue to keep from shouting, "Get on with it, Moony!" He unfolds his newspaper and stares hard at the almost-completed crossword, wiling himself to recall the bagpiper's name, which he knows he's heard or read. Maybe the Weird Sisters are featured today. He flips through the Prophet.
"Checkmate," says Remus.
"What an upset," comes Tonks' sarcastic reply, but she adds sincerely, "Well played, Remus. I bet you could beat Ron."
Sirius wills Remus to think like him and take advantage of Tonks' bit of flattery. He ought to say, "I'd rather play you, luv, after I take you for dinner." Sirius cringes. Merlin's balls, he's out of practice.
"No one beats Ron," says Remus. "Shall we play again?"
"I've a report to write for Scrimgeour," Tonks replies. "Better get home and write."
Ask her for a rain check, Moony, Sirius silently pleads as he hears the telltale sounds of the chess set being put away. Rain check, rain check.
"Would you like…?" Remus begins.
"Yes?" Tonks asks so eagerly that Sirius can envision her face lighting up. She's such a cute girl. Remus had better appreciate what a lucky bloke he is and ask her for a date.
"If you want…" Remus trails off again.
Sirius chokes back a laugh. He's glad it's going this way. Remus always has been such an entertaining fumbler.
"If you would like," Remus tries for the third time, "you could owl me your report, and I would be happy to proofread it."
"Oh." The deflation in Tonks' voice matches the sinking feeling in Sirius' chest. She says, "I'll be up all night and probably won't finish till the last minute. Thanks, though."
She's trying valiantly but failing miserably at sounding grateful. Sirius is so busy feeling sorry for her and trying to recall if Remus was ever this moronic about a girl, that he's caught unawares when they emerge from the drawing room. The look Tonks shoots him as she whips out her wand makes Sirius momentarily fear the hexing off of particular body parts. Instead, she vanishes his Evening Prophet.
"Oy!" Sirius cries. "I was almost finished with the crossword!"
"The bagpiper's called Gideon Crumb." Tonks bids Remus a stiff good night, then, without further word to Sirius, quits twelve Grimmauld.
"I'll proofread?" Sirius says when she's gone. "That's your line, Moony?"
"Did it ever occur to you, Padfoot," says Remus tolerantly, "that I would know you were eavesdropping?"
"Can you blame me for wanting to hear? I live vicariously these days."
A sympathetic look flickers across Remus' features, but he hardens again, folding his arms across his chest. "Can you blame me for not wanting her to think I was only asking because you put me up to it? We are not teenagers anymore. I've a lot to consider before leaping into things with girls."
Sirius gapes. "You really almost asked, then?"
Remus turns and mounts the staircase.
Dogging him, Sirius says, "Why'd you let me stop you? Didn't you notice how disappointed she was?"
Alighting at the second floor, Remus again doesn't answer, but rounds the corner to his bedroom.
"Moony?" Sirius persists. "Why'd you let her leave angry? Are you pissed at me?"
Hand on the doorknob, Remus turns to him. "If Tonks does go out with me, she inevitably will be disappointed. Better now than later. I am rather pissed at you, but I suppose I should be glad you stopped me from doing something stupid."
"Well I'm pissed at you!"
"Are you?"
Sirius wants to tell Remus the truth, that he doesn't like this self-deprecation any more than Tonks does, but instead he says, "You deprived me of all my entertainment. You didn't ask her out, and then she took it out on me by vanishing my crossword."
Remus takes out his wand as he opens the door. "Accio Prophet." He holds the newspaper out to Sirius. "Have mine. You know the bagpiper's name now."
Sirius replies with his hand, and this time as he stalks away, Remus does not laugh.