Spoilers

Feb. 23rd, 2008 04:07 pm
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[livejournal.com profile] gilpin25 thought I ought post a teaser to my SWS fic or the next chapter of No Time For Ducking. Because I've probably bored you all silly droning on about the SWS, I thought I should prove that it does actually exist and post a bit of that, but I can't post very much of it, so it's a very short excerpt from the beginning. To make up for that, there's a bit of Ducking, too, which hints at what's going to happen in the last chapter of the story. (which may or may not be the one I'm currently working on!)

Anyway, I hope you find yourselves teased. ;)

"From No Time For Ducking, Chapter 4

I can't believe you introduced me as Nymphadora," Tonks hissed as she grabbed one end of Harry's trunk, and she and Remus lifted it up to carry it across the square.

"I would have told him you prefer to be called Tonks even if you'd not interrupted me," Remus replied airily.

"But you're still the reason he knows I'm even forced to bear that hideous name," she shot back.

Remus shot her a grin that did much to melt what little irritation she truly felt towards him, in spite of her words, and she forgot it entirely when he said:

"I apologise, and I probably wouldn't have dared attempt such an introduction were I not sure I could placate you, or at least distract you with the surprise I have up my sleeves for later on."

"Surprise?" Tonks said, looking up sharply, her tone a reflection of her word.

"Mmm." Remus raised his eyebrows at her, clearing challenging her to ask him a few more questions.

"What kind of surprise?"



From the fic known as "SWS" or "The Fic In Which Remus Takes One Thousand Words To Take Tonks' Bra Off" (But he doesn't get nearly that far in this bit.)

It's Christmas night and it's late; stars have long since graced the sky, piecing the inky night in diamond clusters. The snow that doesn't fall on the empty street outside has no effect on the magic of the evening which is a palpable heat in the room beyond the window that has nothing to do with the roaring fire, though it is hot.

The room is full with the sound of silence, which makes the odd sharp crack from a log on the fire very much louder than it would in other circumstances, but the couple lying on the rug in front of it are oblivious because they're making the only other sounds on this still, still night: the hushed rustle of fabric moving, the barest of reverent sighs from one that makes the other shudder, and the sound of lips and tongues moving together in heated kisses.

He is Remus Lupin: werewolf, member of the Order of the Phoenix and utterly entranced by the girl, Nymphadora Tonks, who lies before him, underneath him, who's so responsive to his touch that it thrills him beyond anything he's known before -- the sweet sounds that draw from the back of her throat, the way her back arches ever-so-slightly when his hand brushes the exposed skin at the base of her spine.
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