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pookha · 7 months

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Dream With Me: Chapter 12

January 1999

Hermione and Luna grow closer after they return to Hogwarts. Hermione has another concerning meeting with Dennis Creevey and takes comfort from Luna. Hermione gets accepted into the Healer programme and Luna gets a job offer that will be her backup plan.

The first two weeks of classes in January were just as busy and when she added her Head Girl duties and office hours on top of them, Hermione was often exhausted. She thought of Ancient Runes and History of Magic and knew that Luna had been right; if she’d continued with them, she’d have never managed.

She and Luna started reading to each other every night for thirty minutes at least. They started with ‘Directed Dreaming.’

“A Muggle wrote this?” Luna asked when they’d finished the fifth chapter.

“I assume the author’s a Muggle,” Hermione said.

“It just seems like something that my father would have recommended, like something of the sort of ‘pull yourself up and change your state of mind and you can change yourself.’ I don’t know, it seems a bit glib and easy if it’s true.”

Hermione noticed that Luna said ‘my father’ instead of ‘daddy,’ but didn’t comment on it.

“I mean, it does say how difficult it is to set your mind to what you want to dream and have it happen, it’ll take some practice. I suppose it’s not so different from magic, though. Intent is such an important part of making something happen and strengthening your mind is a major part of resisting Curses and Occlumency.”

“Harry would be good at this, I think,” Luna said.

“Hmm, maybe. He has quite a strong will, but he can be stubborn and lazy sometimes, so I’m not so sure.” Hermione laughed, remembering his private lessons with Professor Snape.

“It does seem like it might be easier for us. I’ve been trying to guide my dreams already, but they seem to bounce around to whatever,” Luna said. She looked deep into Hermione’s eyes and Hermione felt like she was looking into her soul. Her neck flushed red. Luna reached over and touched it and the blush went up Hermione’s cheeks.

“Some of the dreams were about you. Want to know what they were about?” Luna stroked Hermione’s neck.

“I…okay?” Hermione squeaked. She leaned her head harder into Luna’s hand.

“Usually we’re just sitting around talking, but there was one where we were obviously living together and older and when you came home from what I knew was work, I knew that I loved you and would forever. There was one where we were arguing about how to make a Potion of Amnesia and I said you should just Obliviate them instead, and you got really angry. I knew that was a dream right away and pushed it away.”

Luna smiled widely.

“Then there were a couple where your head was between my legs and your tongue was…”

“All right, all right, I get it,” Hermione said with a laugh.

“I’ve had those dreams, also,” she said.

“ You’ve had dreams where your head was between your thighs and your tongue was…”

Hermione laughed and poked Luna in the arm.

“You know what I meant. I was with you. We were making love. I also had those dreams about Viktor and Magda…and Parvati and Ron, still.”

“Oh, well dreaming of other people like that is natural, you know. I think Harry is my most recurring one after you and maybe Ginny.”

“Are we going to finish this chapter?” Hermione asked. Luna nodded and they finished the chapter.

The next day, Dennis Creevey was waiting for her outside her office when she went for her hour. His straw-coloured hair lay lank and unwashed, his robes were rumpled and he smelled.

“Come in,” Hermione said as she unlocked her door and opened it. He went in first and waited until she sat to sit also.

“I’m so sorry about the Quibbler article. I didn’t know about it until Harry showed it to me. I didn’t realise that man, the photographer, was interviewing me, I didn’t know any of it was on the record. I didn’t mean to make it seem like it was Harry’s fault or yours. I did say that I thought you were trying to foist me off on Luna, but I was angry and scared. I’m so sorry, Miss.”

Now that she was opposite him, she could see the dark circles under his eyes and the way his hands shook.

“It’s okay. I’m actually not upset by it. I made my peace with the Quibblers’ lies a few months ago and it just rolls off me anymore. I want to know how you’re doing.”

“I’m—I’m not doing. I’m not doing anything…” He sighed and closed his eyes.

“I was like this right after the Battle of Hogwarts. I just wanted to curl up in my bed and not do anything. I didn’t want to sleep, or eat and when I did sleep, the nightmares…” she trailed off.

“Does it get better?” he asked.

She looked at the mostly healed scar on her arm. She noticed he saw her looking and she showed it to him.

“It’s like this. I don’t think it will ever completely go away, but it will fade. I could make it go away, erase it with magic, but I’m not going to because it’s part of me. When I see it, I remember the bad things that happened. I was tortured. Bellatrix Lestrange did this to me with a knife. She threatened to feed me to Greyback. I hate remembering it, but it’s important that I do because it gives me strength to go on. I don’t have a brother. I lost friends and mentors in the war, but I can’t know what it was like to lose a brother. All I can say is that it will get better with time. Especially if you let your friends help.”

“They ask if they can help, but I don’t know what to say to them.” Now he was crying through closed eyes. Tears leaked out hot and fast and dripped on his robes.

“If you can’t take their help, just let them be there. Eventually, when you’re ready, you can talk to them like me. I wasn’t trying to get rid of you when you came to talk, Luna really is better at this than I am. I had to tell McGonagall; I hope you understand.”

He nodded sharply.

“I wish we had therapists here like Muggles do. I asked McGonagall about it and she said she’d look into it. If it was available, would you talk to one?” She reached across and took his hand. He gripped it hard, leaving her skin white.

“I’d try,” he said in a small voice.

“Would you like me to have Luna talk to you?” she asked and he shook his head.

“I don’t know her and you don’t scare me like you do some of the others.”

“I’ll talk to McGonagall again about getting someone here to talk to you, or maybe having you go to them. I’d be willing to Apparate you wherever you need to go.”

“Thank you, Miss,” he said.

“Please, you can just call me Hermione. Miss makes me feel like a professor.”

He started to get up to leave.

“This may be hard to hear, but self-care is a good place to start. Shower, get some sleep, have the house elfs wash your robes. If you can’t sleep, you can see Madame Pomfrey. I can make you a potion to help, but I can’t give it to you without her permission.”

“Thank you,” he said and left. Hermione sighed. No one else came for the rest of her office hour and when she went back to her rooms, Luna was gone on patrol. Hermione went into Luna’s room, took off her shoes and lay on Luna’s bed. It smelled of vanilla and lavender and Luna and she knew now that what she smelled from Amortentia would have changed. She was falling for Luna, maybe already had. She bunched up a pillow under her head and closed her eyes. When she opened them it was nearly dark. Luna was laying across from her staring at her. She fell into her eyes again, swirled into the depths of her silvery moon eyes.

Luna leaned her head forward and their lips brushed lightly. Hermione didn’t pull back, but she also didn’t push in. Luna didn’t push in either. The kiss was a flutter of a feather on her lips, a flutter of a feather in her heart and a flutter of a feather in her stomach. And… she couldn’t lie to herself, a flutter between her legs.

“Sorry. I didn’t think you’d mind if I came in.” Hermione pulled back from the kiss.

“I don’t mind. Come in whenever you want. I’ve been wanting to find you in my bed, but usually when I picture it, you have less clothes on.” Luna laughed and so did Hermione.

“I needed something when I came back from my office hour. Dennis came to talk to me and he’s not caring for himself. I tried my best, but I don’t know how good I am at this. I want to be a Healer, I really do, but will I actually be good at it? It’s hard for me to be empathetic sometimes and I wonder if I’m a sociopath, but then I’ve met some the last few years and I know I’m not, but I can’t shake that feeling.” She leaned forward again and pulled Luna into a hug.

“I—it was the same for me right after the battle. I couldn’t care about anything and if I didn’t have friends, I would have fallen harder, but Harry and Ginny and Ron were there for me. You’ve been there for me. Thank you.” Hermione squeezed Luna tighter.

Luna kissed Hermione’s neck, eliciting a gasp from Hermione.

“You’re welcome. Thank you for being there for me, also.”

Hermione asked, “Can we just have dinner in our rooms tonight? I don’t feel like going down to all the people and I just want to be alone with you. Maybe we can read to each other extra tonight?”

“Let’s do that here, in my bed. I’ll put some music on the wireless and we’ll just stay in.”

“Sounds good.” Hermione buried her head into the crook of Luna’s neck and they stayed like that for a very long time. Luna’s breath on her neck and ear increased the flutters that Hermione felt all across her body. Luna noticed Hermione shaking and started to pull back.

“I don’t mind. I like it. Just hold me.” Hermione squeezed Luna more tightly to her.

“Okay.”

They stayed like that until they had to get dinner, then later they came back and Luna found soft music on the wireless. They snuggled back up in her bed and read more of ‘Directed Dreaming’ together. That night, they both tried to dream about a grassy plain. Hermione woke up in the middle of the night and Luna wasn’t there. She went into the sitting room and Luna was on the sofa, wrapped up in a blanket and moving sinuously. Her soft moans said what she was up to. She noticed Hermione come out of her bedroom, but didn’t stop. Hermione stood in the door and watched. Luna’s breathing grew heavier and her gasps were louder until she let out one explosive moan and stopped moving.

“I didn’t want to wake you. You looked very peaceful and I was anything but.” Luna smiled at Hermione.

“I was peaceful and I’m sorry you weren’t, but happy to see you took care of it.” She laughed.

“Want to join me?” Luna asked.

“Not tonight, but thank you. I promise I don’t think it will be much longer before I’m ready to…” Her words stopped as Luna stood and the blanket fell off. Luna was naked, including no shoes, Hermione noticed. Her pale skin was blotched with red from desire. Hermione could smell her desire, could see it in her erect nipples, could see it in her pursed lips, could see it in the silvery depths of her eyes.

“Siren,” Hermione said and Luna laughed.

Luna walked by Hermione, who was still in the door. She brushed Hermione’s arm and trailed her fingers up it to Hermione’s neck.

“Listen to my music and fall into my arms,” Luna whispered in Hermione’s ear and Hermione realised just how ready her body was. Her arms ached to hold Luna, her lips wanted to explore Luna’s body and she was wet; sometimes there was just no poetic way to say it, so she didn’t.

“Look, I want to fuck you, all right, but it’s got to be when I’m ready. I know if I push it, that we’ll just be, I don’t know, lovers but not Lovers.” Hermione trailed her hand up Luna’s stomach and over a breast. Luna stopped breathing for a second.

“I hear the difference, the capital ‘L’ on the second Lovers. I want you to be sure, but I want to fuck you, also. I want to make love to you, but I also want to fuck you. I want to mark you as mine. I want you to wear my love mark and have you know you’re mine and I’m yours. I know you’re almost ready and I’m still waiting.”

“Now,” Luna said with a smile, “I’m going to masturbate some more. You’re welcome to watch and join or not as you wish. I’ll be thinking of you, though, when I do. I love you, Hermione Granger.” She leaned over and kissed Hermione softly and Hermione returned it, only for a second, but it was a burning second.

“Think of me. I’ll think of you, too,” Hermione promised and went to her bedroom. She didn’t silence her room and she noticed Luna didn’t either. Hermione’s moans joined with Luna’s soon and she thought they crescendoed together. When she slept, much later, she didn’t remember her dreams.

Three days later, they each received a letter at breakfast. Hermione’s was from the Healer program. She was accepted pending her NEWTs. Reading between the lines, Hermione thought they’d take her even without her NEWTs, but she didn’t want special treatment. Luna came over from the Ravenclaw table with her letter and they exchanged them for the other to read. Harry hugged Luna as she sat between him and Hermione.

Luna’s letter was from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. She was being offered a three year contract to do a complete census of the centaurs, merfolk and other ‘Beasts and Beings’ at Hogwarts.

“I’m only going to take it if my other offer falls through, which it won’t,” Luna said, taking back her letter and giving Hermione hers.

“Congratulations,” she said, kissing Hermione on the cheek. Hermione kissed Luna’s cheek back and said, “congratulations,” too.

“Still not saying what that offer is?” Harry asked her and Luna shook her head.

“I don’t want to jinx it, but I was recommended by Hagrid and Professor Snape actually wrote me a letter last year that I sent with it. I think that will do the trick. They’ve interviewed a lot of wizards over the last few years, but haven’t taken anyone on. I’m sure that it’s going to be me, but Hermione has taught me about the values of pragmatism.”

“Don’t blame me for your disillusionment,” Hermione said teasingly and Luna laughed.

“No, that’s my father’s fault,” Luna said, suddenly serious.

Hermione took Luna’s hand and held it, at first under the table, then above it. Ginny’s eyes followed them and Hermione saw Parvati staring at them also. Parvati got up with a clatter of dishes and left, back stiff.

“Umm, what’s that about?” Harry asked. Hermione and Luna met each other’s eyes. Ginny leaned over and whispered in Harry’s ears and his cheeks flamed. He looked at Hermione and Luna, then their intertwined hands, then their faces.

“Oh,” he said, “Congratulations?”

“Thank you,” they both said together and laughed. While they were laughing a letter appeared in front of Hermione. She recognized Professor McGonagall’s handwriting and opened it.

Miss Granger,

I have taken your suggestion and we will be bringing in Healers who specialise in helping with mental trauma and we found that there are two wizards who went into practice in the Muggle world as therapists. We are in the process of working out logistics and scheduling for this. You may inform Miss Lovegood of this, but otherwise, please keep this confidential for now until everything is worked out.

Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress

Hermione handed the letter to Luna, who read it.

“What is it?” Harry asked.

“Sorry, I can’t say yet, but it looks like good news.” Her eyes involuntarily flicked toward Dennis and Harry traced her line of sight with his. Dennis didn’t notice, thankfully.

#hp femslash #hermione x luna #luna x hermione #shared dreams #jobs #hpff hpft harrypotterfanfiction

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downn-in-flames · 5 years

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9.9 Out of 10, Highly Recommend (chapter 2)

Read it on: HPFT | AO3 | FFnet

Previous chapters: 1

DAY ONE

The 73rd Precinct of the NYPD always smells like a mixture of burnt coffee, musty files, and the 'ocean breeze' air freshener that sprays every 20 minutes like clockwork.

That last one is solely Lily's contribution - damn, someone's going to have to take responsibility for refilling that thing once she's gone. Unless she takes the whole contraption with her, in which case the place will probably start smelling like Peter's feet again.

But on top of that strange concoction of fragrances, the precinct also smells like opportunity.

At least, that's the cheesy line James is telling himself, in the hopes of being largely optimistic about this whole thing. He's still got a slight headache from all his drinking the night before, but he's also got a really solid plan of action.

It's a pretty foolproof plan, if he says so himself. For all that his friends like to rib him about going catatonic around people he's got a crush on, he's also done pretty damn well at getting his fair share of dates over the years.

It's just a matter of applying those tactics to someone he already fancies something awful.

He just needs to channel his inner Aries, or whatever it is that his zodiac sign is. Marlene's always going off about astrology, and truthfully, James is usually only halfway paying attention, but he's pretty sure he's supposed to be super courageous and powerful or something like that.

He's going to need that today. He's not planning on asking Lily out just yet - he needs to take this slow if he actually wants a decent shot at her saying yes - but he's most definitely going to attempt to flirt with her.

In real life this time, instead of just daydreaming about it like he's so apt to do during staff meetings.

I mean, really, what else is he meant to do when Dumbledore is going on about 'the valiant battle of good versus evil in the streets of New York' other than dream up elaborate situations involving Lily and increasingly ridiculous pick-up lines? Pay attention?

In a burst of nervous energy, he goes about cleaning up his desk a little. It's a complete disaster, really - although James is more apt to call it organized chaos, because he knows exactly where every file is, thank you very much. He throws away the Coke can that's been sitting there for far too long, and empties his pencil cup of the various candy wrappers that have accumulated there.

Externally, it's not a massive improvement, but it still feels productive to James.

He looks up when Lily walks in. She's holding a large iced coffee, and James immediately knows what that means. It's her hangover drink. He shouldn't really be surprised that she went out last night - she just got a major promotion, after all - but she very rarely drinks enough on weekdays to warrant a hangover coffee the next day.

Her blouse also has one more button open than it normally does; James isn't sure if she's noticed that particular wardrobe malfunction yet, but he's definitely not going to be the one to point it out to her. He's also not going to pay attention to the way that that extra open button reveals just the tiniest bit of cleavage.

He looks up at her face instead, and that turns out to be a mistake. Because she smiles at him brightly - and it almost blinds him for the briefest of moments. "Good morning, James," she says.

For someone holding a hangover coffee, she's surprisingly chipper. Especially towards him. It's enough of a shock that the pencil he's been twiddling between his fingers falls to the floor.

"Good morning," he replies, trying to sound casual despite the writing utensil currently clattering on the tile. "You look lovely today, by the way."

There he goes. He did it. He flirted. He's doing great at this.

"Only today?" she replies, raising an eyebrow at him. "Do I not look lovely every day?"

Shit, maybe he's not actually doing great at this.

"No, no, of course you look lovely every day," he quickly backtracks. "I just meant that - "

Lily laughs - it's a sweet melodic sound to James' ears and it makes him relax a little bit. "I'm only joking - I know what you meant. I just wanted to give you a hard time, is all."

He absolutely wasn't prepared for that one. Lily's never been cold towards him, but the vibe of her behavior right now feels decidedly different than normal. "Oh."

"How was your night?" Lily asks, walking away from her desk and coming over to lean against his.

James is trying very hard not to pay attention to her open blouse - even though it's practically right in front of his face now - and it's only because of that intentional avoidance that he catches Sirius and Remus walking out of the elevator.

"It was good," he answers. "Me, Sirius, Remus, and Peter tried out another brewery - I take it you went out last night as well?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Remus giving him a thumbs up and Sirius miming a lewd gesture.

A look of surprise crosses Lily's features. "How'd you know that?"

He realises that he's now dug himself into a bit of a hole, and the only escape is admitting just how much he's been watching her over the years. "I - er, you always get a large iced coffee whenever you're hungover."

Lily looks at him oddly - fuck, he's definitely creeped her out. "Huh," she muses, "I guess I do."

James struggles for words for a few moments, trying to figure out how the hell to get himself out of this situation, but Lily speaks again before he has a chance to. "You threw the Coke can away," she observes.

Now it's his turn to be surprised by her perceptiveness.

"I did," he replies, although it comes out more like a question than a statement.

Lily at least looks a little flustered by that. "It's just - it's been there for a while. Four months and nine days, by my count."

James actually laughs at that, and the remaining tension drops out of his shoulders. "Oh my god, of course you would've kept count of that, Evans."

"It's an awfully long time to keep an empty Coke can around, is all," she defends.

He looks at her endearingly. "You're really something else, you know that?"

Lily ducks her head at that, letting a curtain of auburn hair fall over her face, but it doesn't fully hide the fact that her cheeks are notably flushed.

He just… made her blush with that?

Naturally, it's when he's not even trying to be smooth that he actually succeeds at it.

"As fun as watching you two lovebirds is..." James looks away from Lily to see Marlene standing a few feet away, arms crossed. "Captain Dumbles called a meeting, so I'm going to need you two to keep it in your pants until later."

Fucking hell, he really needs Marlene not to say things like that. Things like that decidedly do not go well with the whole 'taking things slow and not weirding her out' plan.

"I can't wait until the day Dumbledore hears that you call him Dumbles behind his back," Lily retorts, flipping her hair over her shoulder and seemingly choosing to ignore Marlene's massively unsubtle comments about the two of them.

"Please," Marlene grins, "The Dumble-D loves me. If anything, he'll decide to adopt it as his official nickname."

"Somehow, I seriously doubt that," James replies, reaching underneath a stack of papers to retrieve his notepad and a random pen with a faded Flourish and Blott's logo on the side.

Their captain is… a bit of an enigma, if he's being honest. He's rather eccentric, but also takes his leadership role seriously. He's also just about as weirdly private as Mary is when it comes to his personal life, so all that James really knows is that his husband's name is Gellert and that he works as a financial planner.

Beyond that, he could secretly be researching dragon's blood on the side or something and the rest of the precinct would be none the wiser.

Despite all of that - and despite James' many jokes about his boss - Dumbledore is a pretty damn good captain, and James has a lot of respect for him.

When they walk into Meeting Room 1, Lily surprises him by sitting in the seat next to him instead of two tables in front of him like usual.

"Is it alright if I sit here?" she says, leaning toward him just a bit. If James didn't know better, he'd definitely think Lily was trying to weaponize that damn open button on her blouse against him somehow.

But even without the extra button, he's more than happy to have her sit next to him. Pete can just figure out somewhere else to sit.

"Yeah, of course."

Sure enough, when Peter walks into the room just a few seconds later, he looks vaguely scandalised when he discovers that his usual spot has been occupied. There's a moment where James thinks Peter might say something, but he apparently thinks better of it, because he walks over to Lily's normal spot, taking the seat next to Mary. James doesn't miss the way he intentionally moves his chair a few extra inches away from Mary - Peter's always been a little terrified by the other detective.

"Good morning, team," Kingsley says as he walks into the room, taking his spot next to the podium at the front of the room.

There's an unsynchronised echo of 'good mornings' in response.

A few moments later, Dumbledore comes into the room. He's always had a strange way of carrying himself - almost as if he's wearing long, flowing royal robes instead of his police captain uniform.

But if James had to pick out the single most notable aspect of Dumbledore's appearance - and the one he almost immediately commented on with a 'hello there, Gandalf' on the first day their new captain was introduced - is the his impressively long, slightly-greying beard.

Seriously. That thing is practically a work of art.

"We have widespread records of a whole range of various illegitimate activity from last night," Dumbledore begins, without any preamble. His speeches always firmly straddle the line between incredibly blunt and entirely too vague, and this one seems to be no exception.

"There were no fewer than seven bodegas all held up around the same time," he adds, giving much needed context to his initial statement.

"Why would anyone want to rob a bodega?" Peter interjects, sounding almost affronted by the news.

James is, truthfully, of the opposite mindset. Bodegas have everything you could ever need - who wouldn't want to rob one of those?

Well, not him, because he's an upstanding member of society who doesn't steal from anyone, but like, if he had to pick a place…

He refrains from providing that commentary out loud though, because Lily is currently sitting rather close to him and he doesn't want to do anything to disturb that balance.

"The fact that seven robberies happened at once is an indicator that there are deeper, more sinister forces at play," Dumbledore says, ignoring Peter's commentary. "We think that these were meant as some sort of diversion for something else."

"Like what?" Remus asks.

"No one's completely sure. There were also reports of strange activity near the intersection of Liberty and Prospect, but nothing that seemed to warrant police involvement. At least, not when there were seven hold-ups taking place at the same time."

James is paying attention to the meeting - he is - but he's also currently contending with the fact that Lily's knee keeps bumping against his. He's not sure if she's mistaken his leg for part of the table or something, but it's throwing his concentration off just a tiny bit. Largely because he's not sure what to make of it, especially if it turns out Lily knows she's bumping against his leg and not the table.

Were it not for the fact that the four of them had all sworn to secrecy - and having Lily openly flirting with him would actually help his side of the bet - he'd really think one of his friends meddled in things to get her to act like this. Maybe as some sort of joke or something.

After zoning out for a minute and missing a decent bit of the captain's speech, Dumbledore clearing his throat brings James back into the present moment. "Because of this, we have reason to believe some sort of exchange is meant to take place in that same location sometime before this weekend."

"We're going to set up a rotating schedule of stakeouts," Kingsley adds. This has always been how he and Dumbledore have operated - the captain handles all the big picture information, and Kingsley sorts out the details. "McDonald and Lupin, you two are taking tonight. Potter and Evans, you two are tomorrow. Black and Pettigrew, you're taking Friday."

James can't believe the good luck the universe has given him this week.

Sirius, on the other hand, doesn't appear to feel quite as lucky. "Hey, why can't I have Remus as my stakeout partner?"

"You know precisely why, Black," Dumbledore responds plainly, showing absolutely no sign of emotion whatsoever. He's either internally laughing at the situation or still massively pissed about it, but James can never actually tell which of those he's feeling at any given time.

Nor can anyone in the precinct, really. Their captain is nothing if not confusing as hell.

As for the reason his two friends aren't allowed to stake out together anymore, the story involved a very heated makeout session in a patrol car.

They ended up catching the perp though, but not before the criminal witnessed the hickey on Sirius' neck and Remus' undone belt and started shouting something about road head in a cop car as soon as he'd been brought into the precinct.

James is sure Sirius would like to argue further, maybe throw in a comment about how he and Lily were paired together, and surely the sergeant is only doing this because his relationship is a homosexual one - the gay card, his favorite one to pull even though the captain is gay himself - but the rules of the bet preclude him from saying anything about what James is trying to do in the next ten days.

The meeting carries on for a little bit longer, and there's further discussion about the crime ring that Dumbledore thinks this is connected to, but for the most part, it's nothing groundbreaking. They're dismissed eventually, and the only real notes James has managed to take during the entire thing are some terribly done doodles and the word 'Thursday.'

James takes the long way back to his desk, stopping by the kitchens to get a Coke out of the fridge. Remus and Peter are leaving the precinct to go question a witness, and he gives them both a high five on their way out.

When he gets back to his desk, the first thing he does is open up his email - it's filled with a whole host of announcements that he probably should read at some point today, but for now, he just scrolls through them all to get the angry red 'unread' number to go away. The process is weirdly methodical and soothing, and he can almost entirely block out Sirius' phone barking repeatedly - although honestly, who's sending him that many texts right now?

"I still can't believe you don't sort your emails," a voice says from behind him, and James jumps when he realises Lily is standing by his desk again. The extra button on her blouse is done back up this time.

"Why would I?" he responds. "There's a search bar for a reason."

"And you just keep a perfect mental record of the exact search terms you'll need to find whatever you're looking for?"

James shrugs. "Pretty much."

Lily laughs. "Unbelievable."

He feels strangely like he needs to defend his email system - not everyone can be as organized as she is - but he's saved from trying to develop an argument by Lily changing the subject. "So, I was thinking," she starts, biting her bottom lip like she always does when she's nervous, "maybe you and I could go do something after work today? Just the two of us? Like, as a date?"

Well, his perfectly-crafted days one through three just went straight out the window.

But even though his mind is positively reeling - because where the fuck did this come from - he manages to sound pretty put-together out loud. "Yeah, that'd be great, Evans. What do you have in mind?"

She grins, emerald eyes sparkling with something between joy and mischief. "You'll see."

"That sounds ominous."

"Maybe it is," she replies. "But yay, I'm looking forward to it."

She immediately turns to make the five-foot trek back to her own desk, but James can't resist asking the question that's been on his mind since this morning. "Where did this come from, Evans? We've both worked here for almost three years, and you ask me out the day after you find out you're moving precincts?"

The smile on her face falters for half a second - James notices that much. "I have a self-imposed rule about not dating coworkers," she tells him. "But I'm leaving in a few days, so I figured it's now or never."

He supposes that logic is fair enough. And Lily would be the type of person to have a complicated set of personal rules, really.

But damn, if she's only shown no interest in him because they were working together, winning this bet might be a whole lot easier than he'd expected.

Knowing that he's got a date after work has the magical effect of making the day go by so much slower than usual. He's honestly bored out of his mind filling out paperwork from a few small cases he'd worked on over the past few weeks - but there's a good chance Kingsley will kick his ass if he doesn't have all those reports done by the end of this week.

And Kingsley could kick James' ass easily; James passed his physical test to join the force and all, but Kingsley works out like three times a day. There's no way in hell James can compete with that.

"I'll text you where to meet me," Lily says, when she sees James start packing up his things. "Wear something comfortable."

This seems like it's about to be a very unconventional first date, whatever it is, because 'comfortable' isn't usually the look James goes for - at least, not on the usual dinner-and-a-movie first date type of thing.

Despite the confusion of it all, James actually really doesn't mind it. He's always been the type of person that loves surprises, and any surprise Lily comes up with seems like a pretty solid one to him.

He still texts Sirius for advice anyways. As soon as he starts the walk home to his apartment, he pulls out his phone and types out a message to his much more fashionable friend.

ok lily said to dress comfortable, what the hell should i wear for this

you do realise it's a direct conflict of interest for me to answer that, right?

i really should just tell you something to wear something absurd so that i win

honestly, fuck you

no thanks, i've got moony for that

that joke again, seriously?

DO NOT MAKE A SIRIUS PUN I SWEAR TO GOD

since you're so intent on taking things *siriusly*, jeans and one of your t-shirts that doesn't have a hole in it is probably good enough

ideally one of the more fitted ones that makes you look like you've actually got biceps instead of just being a goddamn beanpole

ugh fuck off

but also thx

you're very welcome

Despite the fact that texting Sirius for advice almost always turns into getting endless shit about his questions, Sirius is usually pretty helpful. And he was in this case, and James takes his advice, putting on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt from a campaign he volunteered on.

Lily texts him an address, which he immediately plugs into Google Maps. It resolves a place called 'Indoor Extreme Sports.'

Which, quite honestly, sounds like his dream first date. A dream first date with his dream girl isn't too a shabby a way to spend his Wednesday.

When James arrives at the designated location, Lily's already there waiting for him. He'd thought he'd beat her by getting there five minutes earlier than when she'd told him to meet him, but really, he should've known better. Lily is never less than ten minutes early for everything.

She's changed into black shorts and a green top, and her hair is tied up into a ponytail.

"Indoor Extreme Sports?" James asks. "That's an unconventional date choice."

"You don't like it?"

"Exact opposite, actually," James replies. "I'm realising just how much I've missed out on at this point in my life by not having every first date I've ever been on at an Indoor Extreme Sports."

"Oh," Lily says. "Good." She doesn't sound quite as relieved as her words would imply, and James isn't quite sure what to make of that. "Nice shirt, by the way."

He hadn't even thought about it when he got dressed, really, but he feels like wearing a shirt with their current representative's logo on it is definitely going to earn him points in Lily's book. She's definitely raved about her at work on more than one occasion.

"Thanks," he grins. "It's always a bit of a risk wearing a political shirt on a first date, you know."

"Oh, shut up," she returns his smile, shoving his shoulder playfully. "Don't act like you haven't heard me going on about my political opinions for ages now. You aren't exactly risking me storming out of here because you're a Democrat."

"Fair enough. I had a bit of an advantage going into this one."

"It's the only advantage you're getting tonight," she tells him, "because I'm about to kick your ass in laser tag."

He raises an eyebrow at her. "Are you, Evans?"

"Absolutely, Potter," she replies, stepping forward so that they're almost chest-to-chest.

He's close enough that he can smell her perfume, and really, all he'd have to do at this point is lean down a little bit and he'd be kissing her. And fuck, when she's looking at him with that hint of a challenge in her eyes, it's pretty damn hard to ignore that particular potentiality.

But before he can successfully talk himself in or out of anything, Lily spins on her heel, almost hitting him in the face with her ponytail in the process.

"Come on," she calls, not even turning around to look at him. "The game awaits."

He snaps out of his Lily-induced trance and follows after her, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "So, what's at stake here?"

"At stake?"

"What's the point of a competition if there isn't some sort of prize involved?" he replies.

"Touché." She thinks on it for a moment. "How about… loser buys dinner?"

"You're on," James answers, realising that this is the second time in a 24-hour window that he's made some sort of bet. "But exclusively monetary bets are boring, we need to make this more fun - loser also has to make a public announcement of their inferiority at the precinct tomorrow."

Lily turns her head toward him, looking surprised for the briefest of moments. "You've got yourself a deal. I can't wait to watch you make a fool of yourself tomorrow."

James scoffs at that. "Please. I make a fool of myself every day. Still going to beat you at this."

She laughs at that, and James quite honestly feels pretty proud of how far he's come in just ten hours. Yes, she's still laughing at him just like she did this morning, but now it's because he made her laugh, not because he'd just stuck his foot in his mouth.

They pay for nine rounds each, get suited up with vests and guns that are essentially smaller replicas of the real versions they normally wear, and are set out into the darkened obstacle course. They're definitely the only two people here over the age of twenty, but James doesn't care much.

He is still a bit surprised that Lily's picked this location - it seems like something she might write off as childish - but he's not disappointed with the revelation either. If anything, her behavior tonight has made him like her even more.

They're both pretty decent at the game, consistently scoring at the top of their respective teams after each round - they've got a slight advantage over all the teenagers here given that they're actually trained to use guns and whatnot.

After eight rounds, they're at a perfect tie.

"What do you say we make up our own rules for this last round?" Lily asks, examining her laser gun and trying to look vaguely threatening.

"I wouldn't have put you as the type to go rogue," he jokes.

"We're not breaking any official game rules - I would never," she replies. "We're just making this sudden death."

James' massive competitive streak is instantly onboard. "I'm listening."

"Points are irrelevant. First person to take the other out wins."

He grins. "Perfect."

When they're both dumped into the obstacle course for their last round, they immediately head in opposite directions. James has his back to the wall at all times and takes corners carefully - even though this is a friendly competition, his heart is hammering in his chest just as much as it does when he's doing this for real.

They've been in there for five minutes before he catches his first sight of Lily - she's a full head taller than any of the pre-teen boys also playing this round with them and therefore very hard to miss.

Although that makes him an even easier target to identify than her, really. He's even taller than her, after all.

And it's apparent that she's seen him too, because she immediately ducks behind a wall, pointing her gun in his direction and firing aimlessly.

James isn't a complete amateur, so he dodges her random shots with ease. Instead, he goes about cornering her - he knows for a fact that the area she's hiding in is a dead end, and he has every intent of using that against her.

He's gotten himself plastered against the wall currently dividing them, fully prepared to aim at her the moment she tries to make a run for it. He gradually inches closer and closer to the gap in the wall - he's all but got her trapped at this point.

He's about to round the corner and fire when -

"Oh! James!"

He falters for just a moment, trying to decipher her tone, and that moment of hesitation is where he makes his mistake.

In a matter of seconds, he's flat on his back, Lily straddling him and aiming her gun at his chest.

"I win, Potter," she says, before pulling the trigger and making his vest go dead.

It'll turn back on in about thirty seconds, because their sudden death rules don't apply to the system powering these vests, but it's a loss on their terms nonetheless.

But weirdly enough, with Lily looking down at him with the most self-satisfied smirk ever, illuminated only by the red light coming off of her gun and vest, he can't really find it in himself to actually be all that disappointed.

He plays along with it nonetheless, feigning offense. "You played dirty, Evans."

She shrugs. "I like to call it creative gameplay."

"You just don't like that I had you cornered," he retorts, just as his vest comes back to life again.

Lily lazily shoots his vest again, just for the hell of it. "Please," she replies, rolling off of him and standing up, "I wasn't cornered."

"You're so ridiculously stubborn, you know that?" he says, laughing. "If that was a suspect, you would most definitely have called that being cornered."

"I am ridiculously stubborn, actually - I'm glad you've just now noticed. Now get up so we can go get food - I'm starving, and you're buying."

He pushes himself up off the ground - honestly, he's lucky this place is covered in mats, otherwise that tackle would've hurt a hell of a lot more - before answering her. "Oh, trust me, I've noticed for a while - do I need to remind you of the time you made Shacklebolt reprint the entire IT manual because you found a typo?"

"It changed the meaning of the sentence," she responds immediately. "It could've resulted in some fatal mistakes."

"Right, because someone is actually going to think they're meant to stick a headphone cord into an outlet because they read it in an old IT manual that's practically falling out of the binder it's in."

Lily raises her eyebrows at him challengingly. "You haven't hung around many of the beat cops then."

"See, but you assume people actually even read that manual to begin with though," he replies as they make their way out of the venue, passing by the preteens still firing amongst themselves.

"I read that manual," she says, unbuckling her vest and pulling it over her head.

"Yes, and you're a complete anomaly, Evans." He follows suit, hanging his gun and vest up on the wall. "Tell me, was there really anything in there that you didn't already know how to do?"

That one gives her pause, and in the light, James notices just how many strands of hair have escaped her ponytail. It's a little bit wild and every bit adorable.

"I - I'm sure there was something," she eventually insists.

"Whatever you say," he responds, smirking, because he knows he's won this one.

They go up the street to a hole-in-the-wall Thai restaurant - James had briefly considered taking her somewhere fancier, but it's late and they're both starving; plus, he knows for a fact that Lily has really strong feelings about red curry, and this place makes some of the best he's ever had.

He tells her as much when they walk in. "They make a bomb red curry here - you'll love it."

She looks at him oddly. "How do you know I'm getting red curry?"

Shit, shit, shit - does he sound like one of those douchebags who orders for their date now? "I just - I know you're picky about them. You're always talking about which places do it well."

"Oh," she says, sounding a bit surprised. "I guess I am."

They get seated, and that brief bout of awkwardness fades away as soon as it arrived - it appears that Lily didn't interpret his comment the way he'd feared she might've. He knows that if she did, she would've already walked right out the restaurant door by now.

Dinner goes by with ease; neither of them are really pretending to be anything they're not. They're just James and Lily, the same way they are at work or when they're at some sort of after-hours get-together, but this time, it's only the two of them.

James quite likes that particular change of pace.

"Fuck, this is good," Lily says when their food arrives. "As much as I hate admitting you're right about things, I commend you on your restaurant-picking skills."

He grins at that. "I've gotta be good for something, you know. And since laser tag apparently isn't it, finding good Thai food is my replacement superpower."

"That's not too shabby a superpower, honestly," she replies, before taking another bite.

"I mean, it wouldn't have been my first choice," he tells her, "but all the cool ones were apparently taken by actual superheroes. I got stuck with whatever was left."

That gets a small laugh out of her, although it's obvious she's trying to pretend she doesn't find it funny.

"What about you?" he adds. "If you could have any superpower, what would it be?"

She thinks on that for a moment, pushing a few errant strands of hair out of her face. "Invisibility."

"Why's that?"

"Well, first of all, it'd make work so much easier," she replies. "Instead of having to actually hide out, you can just be in plain sight and never get noticed. Plus, I dunno, I always liked the idea as a kid of being able to just disappear for a few hours with a book and not have anyone come take the book away from me."

It feels like there's a little more to that particular story than she's telling, but James doesn't want to push that particular envelope right now. "When Sirius and I were younger - like, elementary or middle school-aged, mind you - we used to pretend my dad's old cloaks made us invisible. We obviously weren't, but my parents played along the whole time and just acted really confused when we moved stuff around in the kitchen cabinets or whatnot."

Lily laughs at that. "Why does it not surprise me that you and Sirius were getting up to all sorts of troublesome shit even as kids?"

"Oh, trust me - we were even worse as kids."

She shudders at that - but it's very obviously faked. "I am so happy I didn't know you as a teenager then."

"If you think we're annoying now, you haven't seen anything. The principal at our high school still tells my mom how many grey hairs we apparently gave her. Also that if either Sirius or I ever have kids and move back to that school district, she's immediately retiring."

"And yet somehow you ended up a cop," she replies.

"Oh, we never broke the law or anything like that," he immediately defends. "We were… admittedly, kind of bullies to some of the kids that were constantly going around spouting racist shit - and I knocked a kid out once for calling Sirius a homophobic slur - but for the most part, it was just dumb shit like filling the hallway with solo cups or hiding a bunch of alarm clocks in the library."

Much to his surprise, she's got a softer look when he finishes his explanation. "I mean, that's the most justifiable reason for knocking someone out, honestly."

James shrugs. "It wasn't my finest moment, really. I still didn't really have a grip on my own sexuality at that point, really - not to mention that Sirius is basically my brother - and the combination of both of those things and that word just resulted in me flying into an uncontrollable rage. I don't regret the first punch, but I regret a number of the ones that came after."

Lily just hums in response to that, and he hopes it's a hum of approval rather than one of distaste.

She opens her mouth to say something, but they're interrupted by the arrival of the check. The waiter wordlessly places in in front of James before walking away, and James already knows Lily's going to have words about that as soon as she's out of earshot.

She does, in fact, prove his predictions correct. "God, like, I know that you're paying because you lost, but are we really still in the 1950s here? Are we really still assuming that there's no way that maybe I'm the one paying the bill?"

"We're living in a society bound by patriarchal norms, Evans," James replies, getting his wallet out of his pocket and sliding his card into the envelope. "I'm obviously the only one capable of being the breadwinner here."

He gives her a wry grin. "Honestly, I really should let you pay the bill - you are about to be making significantly more money than me, after all. That makes you the breadwinner in this situation, really."

"Absolutely not," she replies. "Absurdly sexist assumptions aside, I tackled you for a free dinner and I fully intend on cashing in on that."

"As you should," he tells her, just as the waiter comes back by and picks up the check.

Once he's paid and tipped properly - Lily hadn't been shy about ensuring he'd tipped at least 20% - they walk out of the restaurant.

"I can call us a Lyft back to your place?" James offers when they get outside, and it's only when Lily gives him a disbelieving look that he realises the error in what he's said.

Foot, meet mouth: round… probably like seventy-something at this point.

"I just meant," he quickly amends, "I only live like five blocks from you, so I figured it'd be cheaper if we just rode together and I walked the rest of the way back."

Lily's expression loses its edge. "Oh. Yeah, that makes sense." When James pulls out his phone, she's quick to tack on, "But I'm paying you back for half. I didn't win anything this time."

James just laughs a little at that. "Sure."

As much as he'd be happy to pay for the full fare, he knows that she will stubbornly insist on paying her half until she's blue in the face, and it's not really the type of thing worth actually arguing about.

Their ride shows up, and they fall into a comfortable sort of silence on the ride home; it's not the sort of thing that feels necessary to break, so James embraces it, sneaking little glances at Lily every so often, watching the lights from outside briefly illuminate her face.

She catches his eye when he does it one time, and smiles softly, like they're sharing some sort of secret between the two of them.

It does things to his stomach that it absolutely shouldn't.

In a much shorter amount of time than he would've liked, they're pulling up to Lily's apartment building. They both get out of the car, and as their driver pulls away, James finds himself automatically turning to face Lily, as if she's got some sort of magnetic pull over him.

"This was fun," he tells her, fully aware that they're much closer now than they've been for most of the night. "We should do it again sometime."

"Tomorrow?" she asks, with just a hint of mischief in her eyes.

"Damn, tomorrow doesn't work," James replies, feigning disappointment. "I'm supposed to be doing some sort of stakeout thing with one of my coworkers, and she's a bit of a rule-follower, you see, so I don't think she'd be too pleased to find out I was abandoning her to go on laser tag dates."

Lily hums, as if considering this. "That's true - you wouldn't want to disappoint her."

"No, I definitely wouldn't," he says, taking stock of the fact that they're now so close that they're practically touching.

They stay like that for just half a second, teetering on the edge of something, before James takes the leap and breaks the mounting tension between them. "I'm going to kiss you, if that's alright."

Lily gives the tiniest of nods, and that's the exact answer James needs to close what's left of the space between them and put his lips on hers.

And if Lily's smiles did things to his stomach, her kisses go straight to his head. It was only meant to be a quick thing - a soft goodbye gesture - but the way that Lily's arms almost immediately wrap around his neck and her fingers slide into the hair at the nape of his neck suggests that while this kiss may be many things,'quick' is most definitely not among them.

His hands instantly find her waist, pulling her into him even tighter than before. The intensity very quickly ratchets up a few levels, and soon enough he's got her back against the brick wall of her building, doing his best to memorise the feeling of her lips and the way her body molds so perfectly into his.

This is so much more than a simple goodnight kiss - this is pure electricity between the two of them that he both wasn't expecting and is somehow entirely unsurprised by. It's Lily, of course, how could he have expected it to be anything other than fucking amazing, but fucking hell.

Were it not for the very pointed coughs of a few passersby, he would very happily stay in this exact position for the rest of his goddamn life.

But he takes the hint from the people walking by, and forces himself to pull back. And he very quickly adds this moment to the list of things he wants to memorise, because Lily's flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes in the dimly lit street are a masterpiece he never wants to forget.

Lily takes a few moments to get her bearings, as if kissing him had quite literally made her forget where she was. He feels oddly proud of that.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then," she says after a moment, dropping her arms from their place around his neck and immediately digging into her crossbody bag to retrieve her keys.

"See you tomorrow, Lily," he replies, giving her a dumb half-wave before turning and walking down the street.

He'd be lying if he said he didn't spent the entire five-block walk home with a little extra spring in his step, or if he acted like he was able to wipe the slightly-dopey grin off his face until a full ten minutes after he got home, or if he pretended like he didn't spend at least fifteen minutes telling his cat exactly how well his date went.

He falls asleep feeling about a million times more confident about winning this bet than he did when he woke up this morning.

DAY TWO

In contrast, Lily wakes up on the second day of the bet feeling much less confident than she did on day one.

She really thought she'd shown off some of her worst traits yesterday - all under the guise of a sweet date, but still enough to at least create some sort of hesitation in James - but it seems that nothing of the sort was accomplished.

After the overly flirtatious beginning, which clearly just about stunned the pants off of him at first, she went about subtly showing off some of her 'worst' traits - that is, the ones that previous boyfriends had always had issues with. She got onto him for how he organised (or didn't organise) his emails, she took complete control of both asking him out and planning the entire date, and she'd picked something that showed off how ruthlessly competitive she was.

None of those things - overly nitpicky, dominant, competitive - are ever seen as remotely positive traits in a woman. (Which is perhaps an issue of ingrained societal gender norms and expectations, but that's an issue for another time. She can address that particular issue when her pride isn't on the line.)

And yet, when he'd kissed her at the end of the night, it was with so much affection and fervor that Lily still gets a little dizzy just thinking about it. She can't remember the last time a first kiss with a guy sent that much warmth through her veins - if it ever did.

But, she supposes, it was only the first date. Everyone experiences a first date in rose-coloured glasses from time to time. There's still nine other days to prove to him just how incompatible they really are.

Of course, there's also the totally separate fact that last night also showed her a totally different side of James than she'd expected to see - the type that owned up to his past mistakes, that kept up with her constant teasing and gave it back just as good, that surprised her again and again.

It was really his perceptiveness that got to her - the way he'd clearly caught onto some of her habits over the years, like always ordering a large iced coffee the morning after a night out or always getting red curry at Thai restaurants. It's just the tiniest of red flags that maybe, just maybe, her original theory surrounding James' crush on her was wrong.

And she well and truly enjoyed herself last night. It easily earned a spot in one of her top five best first dates of all time, which is such a concerning thing considering her whole goal here is to get James to dump her.

All of these thoughts are just wildly buzzing around her head as she makes herself a cup of tea, making it completely impossible to have anything close to a nice, calming morning.

And she'd really been hoping for one of those - between the inevitable grilling she's going to get from Marlene (as Mary listens in but acts entirely nonchalant about it) at work and the fact that she's going to be on a stakeout until god knows when tonight, a moment of peace would've been nice preparation for all of that.

But no, her stupid brain can't even manage that much.

Lily's normally rather proud of her Type A, borderline-perfectionist tendencies; but right now, when her brain is doing that thing where it thinks itself into a never-ending spiral, not so much.

Once she's finished her tea and gotten dressed - doing up all the buttons this time - she leaves for work.

She lives walking distance from the 73rd precinct - she's always loved being able to make the trek to and from work on foot when the weather allows it, and it's something she's going to miss at her new position, where she'll likely have to take the subway up a few stops or get used to calling a Lyft every time.

And sure, she could move, but why would she want to? Her apartment is honestly kind of perfect, and she's close to all of her friends. And James.

Not that that last one will matter much after she wins this bet, but it pops into her brain nonetheless.

When she gets to the precinct, most of her co-workers haven't arrived yet. That's pretty standard, really - Lily's normally one of the earliest to get there in the mornings. Yesterday was the obvious exception, but that's because the line at Dunkin was bordering on absurd and Lily needed that extra dose of caffeine and sugar.

Peter's already at his desk, and when he sees that Lily's walked into the room, he practically lights up. "Good morning, Lily!" he says cheerily, opening his mouth again as if to add something else before thinking better of it.

He probably wants to ask about her date with James, but has decided to wait until more people are here.

Bet aside, this is why she's had her rule against dating coworkers for so long. She doesn't need her workplace - where she's supposed to be talked about for her work - to be littered with gossip about her love life.

She can only hope that no one judges her too much for this thing with James - especially Captain Dumbledore, heaven forbid, because she cares more about his opinion of her than she cares to admit.

Drunk Lily was definitely a bit of an idiot to have made this bet in the first place (for a number of reasons), but it's too late to back out of anything now.

The remainder of her coworkers gradually trickle in, and Lily makes a pointed effort to not make eye contact with any of them. She knows it's an avoidance tactic that's destined for failure, but it doesn't stop her from trying anyways.

The only arrival she does look up for is James, and she's actually a bit surprised by the small herd of butterflies that take up residence in her stomach when she makes eye contact with him.

It's ridiculous, really - she doesn't suddenly have real feelings for a guy she's previously only been marginally attracted to all because of one date. That's not how things are supposed to work.

"Morning, Evans," he says, grinning at her as he takes his seat.

"Good morning, Potter," she replies, although what she'd expected to come out in a purely professional tone sounds decidedly warmer.

There's a distinct sound of office chair wheels speeding across the tile floor, but even that isn't enough warning when Sirius comes careening into her desk.

"So, Prongs and my dearest Lily," Sirius says, splaying his hands out dramatically so that one hand rests on James' desk and one hand rests on Lily's, "which one of you is going to give me all the juicy details about your night last night?"

"Neither of us," James responds immediately, which is yet another surprise to Lily. She would've thought, given his show-offy tendencies, that he would immediately want to brag about how well their date went.

Unless… he doesn't think it went as well as she did?

Which should, theoretically, feel like a win, because it would mean she's actually in a better place in this bet than she thought, but she feels a knot of worry form in her stomach nonetheless.

The silence from both of them seems to only egg Sirius on further. "Based on the lack of reply," he reasons, "things either went really well or really terrible. And given that you're both still talking to each other, I'm inclined to go with the former, but then again, maybe it's all a front? I'm going to need some official confirmation either way."

"Pads, give the poor folks a break," Remus calls out from his desk.

Sirius spins to face him, frowning. "Don't be a buzzkill, Moony. Don't you want to know how their date went?"

"Obviously," Remus replies. "But you're not going to get information out of them like that - are you forgetting absolutely everything you know about interrogation tactics?"

"So what you're saying is we need to lock them in a room somewhere until they answer me?"

"I've got an extra set of handcuffs!" Peter chimes in.

At that, Lily turns to glare at him. "Pettigrew, if you even think about handcuffing me, so help me god I will cut your hands off."

Peter mimes surrender at that, clearly not wanting to test Lily's ire any further.

"Come on, just tell us how it went and we'll all leave you alone," Marlene says, joining in on the conversation and making Lily feel very, very surrounded.

"Did you at least kiss?" Sirius tacks on.

Lily feels a telltale heat creep up her cheeks at that - because oh, did they kiss - and she knows it's all over at that.

"You did!" Sirius exclaims triumphantly. And then he seems to realise something, because he looks across the pit to someone totally different. "Shacklebolt! You hear that? Evans and Prongs kissed, and they're still stakeout partners."

"Padfoot…" James says warningly, probably worried that this is going to result in the two of them getting split up.

But Kingsley doesn't react that way at all. "They did?" he asks with a clear tone of excitement, before clearing his throat and sounding much more serious. "They did. Well, given that they have no past record of doing it on the job, I see no problem with them continuing to be partners. You and Lupin's record, on the other hand, isn't quite as clean."

"Aw, c'mon," Sirius whines, before being noticeably elbowed in the side by Remus.

"Let's not interfere in this," the other man says softly, with a look in his eyes suggesting there's a deeper meaning behind his words. "Besides, I've already done my late-night shift for the week anyways, and I'd quite like to keep my Friday night free."

Sirius pouts a little at that, but shuts up anyways.

"What on earth are all of you piddling about for?" their captain's voice rings out over the precinct. "Stop crowding Potter and Evans' desks and get back to your own work."

"But Captain," Peter interjects, "we're just trying to find out more about - "

"As thrilling as these two's personal lives may be to the rest of you, I can assure you that neither of them want to talk about it right now," Dumbledore replies, and Lily feels a rush of relief.

Dumbledore seemingly knows about her and James - it'd be hard not to, given how loud Sirius has been about it for the past ten minutes - and doesn't seem to care much.

Deep down, Lily kind of knew that would be the case; Dumbledore's a pretty objective captain, and is much more likely to judge a person based on the quality of their police work than on anything that might be going on outside of work hours, but she'd fretted about it nonetheless.

Despite his eccentricities and the fact that he's often damn near impossible to read, he's definitely one of Lily's role models. He's done a pretty incredible job running the precinct - even with Sirius, Remus, Peter, and James constantly getting up to stupid shit - and earning and maintaining his respect is one of the most important things in the world to her.

And as is often to happen when she cares a lot about something, she thinks way too far into it and worries about it at entirely unnecessary levels.

But Dumbledore's word in the precinct is law, so the four people clustered around her desk gradually roll their chairs back to their workspaces - although not without some audible grumbling about 'no fun.'

Almost as soon as that chaos in the precinct calms down, and everyone's gotten back to work at their own desks, a new form of chaos enters the office, in the form of an elevator ding and a tiny, stout woman wearing a pink headband with her captain's uniform.

Dolores Umbridge is the Deputy Chief of the NYPD and, in Lily's opinion, an absolute living nightmare.

And that take says a lot about Umbridge's character, because Lily has a natural deference to authority figures, so it takes quite a bit of horrific behavior for her to outwardly dislike someone who's got so much power over her.

Umbridge starts making a beeline for Captain Dumbledore's office.

"Do you have an appointment?" Marlene asks, but the question falls on deaf ears. Umbridge just opens the door to Dumbledore's office entirely without preamble, and closes it behind her before anyone can even see the captain's reaction, much less eavesdrop on the conversation.

It doesn't stop anyone from talking about it though.

"What do you think she wants?" James asks aloud.

"Probably trying to figure out another way to ruin our lives," Mary chimes in, sounding even more annoyed than usual.

"Or she's come up with yet another ridiculous PR stunt that our precinct just has to be the ones to run," Remus adds.

For some reason, any time the NYPD's PR department has come up with a promotional campaign involving 'real life cops,' Umbridge has come directly to the 73rd Precinct in pursuit of 'volunteers.'

It's an absurd concept, and any cop that participates is basically subjecting themselves to public ridicule - which is probably why Umbridge is so intent on making Dumbledore's precinct get involved.

They've got some sort of historical epic rivalry that goes all the way back to their training days.

But using stupid PR campaigns is never actually going to do anything helpful for the NYPD's reputation, in Lily's opinion, especially when leadership continues to ignore valid accusations of police brutality and pardon officers who have essentially committed homicide on the job.

No amount of posters with smiling officers and anecdotes about their dog is going to address the systematic failure of the organization to hold their employees responsible for their abuse of power.

"I refuse to participate again," James says stubbornly. "Someone graffiti'd a mustache onto my cat."

"Didn't they also draw a dick on your forehead?" Lily asks.

"Yeah, but I don't care about that," he replies. "But when you disrespect Godric, you've gone too far."

She giggles at that, because it's honestly kind of hilarious that he's more defensive of his cat's honor than his own.

"Regardless, these stupid PR campaigns always suck," Sirius says, putting his feet up on his desk. "And someone needs to tell Umbridge that before we get made fools of again."

"I think that's kind of the point though, Padfoot," Remus comments. "Although someone could do with telling the PR department that pitches these sorts of ideas that their ideas suck and nothing's going to change with public opinion until the department as a whole takes responsibility for their actions."

"Oh but why would we ever want to do that?" Marlene answers sarcastically. "That requires actual work,and it's just so much easier to stick a picture of me and my wife's dog in a subway station. Admittedly, I looked great in that picture, but my natural beauty is going to do fuck-all to fix their reputation."

"You guys know Umbridge can probably hear you, right?" Kingsley interrupts. "Captain Dumbledore's office isn't that soundproof."

"Good, I want her to hear how much she sucks," Mary answers.

Lily privately agrees, even though she hasn't actually participated in this conversation much.

It's weirdly perfect timing though, because Umbridge picks that exact moment to walk out of Dumbledore's office, a smug, self-satisfied grin on her toadlike features.

When Dumbledore walks out of his office, he looks decidedly uncomfortable - Lily can't help but wonder exactly what went down in that conversation that has him looking like that, because he's usually relatively unshaken by most anything.

"Umbridge has informed me that a few precincts will likely be undergoing remodeling efforts over the next few months, and our precinct is going to house their employees while the construction is underway," he announces to the room. "Meaning that we'll likely have to consolidate space to accommodate them and their desks."

"Enjoy the lack of personal space," Umbridge adds with a tone of artificial sweetness, before the elevator dings and she steps inside.

When the doors close, the precinct goes up in a storm of commentary - and Lily absolutely doesn't hold back this time.

"Why is she always like this?"

"I can't believe the nerve of that woman."

"It's absurd that she just gets to walk all over us out of personal vengeance."

"At least no one's drawing a mustache on my cat this time."

That last comment from James draws Lily out of her righteous anger, and she looks over at him.

He shrugs. "Hey, I'm just looking at the positives here."

"I'm suprised you're not more annoyed about this," she says. "You're not going to be able to just roll your chair around the pit anymore."

"Eh, I can still do it - I'll just hit more things. It's like a giant real-life game of pinball," he replies. "I'm surprised you're so annoyed by it - you're not even going to be here when this happens."

Shit - she'd almost forgotten about that. "It's the principle of the thing," she insists anyways. "It's ridiculous that she can abuse her power and wield it against people she harbors a personal vendetta against."

"Oh yeah no, that part's definitely absurd," James agrees.

The one bright side of Umbridge's unannounced arrival and announcement is that it gets pretty much everyone in the precinct to stop obsessing over James and Lily's date - it doesn't even dominate the conversation when Lily and Marlene walk up the street to grab lunch, when questions about her personal life are much more appropriate.

"I honestly can't decide who pisses me off more - Umbridge or Snape," Marlene says while they're waiting in line.

The Deputy Chief who likes making their lives a nightmare or the Major Crimes detective who insists on stealing their thunder whenever he can - it's a pretty tough decision, honestly.

"My vote's definitely on Snape," Lily replies. "At least Umbridge doesn't hit on me when she's trying to ruin my life."

"Oh god, I almost forgot about his thing for you," Marlene says, shuddering.

"You'd think he'd take a hint, but apparently not," Lily replies, thinking back to the numerous times Snape had blatantly made his fascination with her known.

It's awfully funny to her, in a twisted sort of way, that he somehow thinks she'd still be interested in him when he regularly tries to stab both her and the rest of her colleagues in the back.

"Well, maybe now that you're dating James, he'll leave you alone."

"I somehow doubt that would stop him," Lily reasons. "If anything, it'll probably just spurn him on. Not to mention, James and I aren't dating - or at least, we won't be for much longer."

"But you did kiss him," Marlene replies.

"I did." She pauses her conversation with Marlene to place her order, before jumping right back in where she'd left off. "Doesn't change the fact that I'm still going to win this bet."

"As both a neutral spectator to this bet and a person who is literally always right about these sorts of things, I can say with a lot of confidence that you are definitely not going to win this bet. James' heart eyes are even bigger this morning than they were yesterday."

Lily waves that off. "First dates are like that. We've still got nine days for things to go downhill."

That's the thing she's been repeating to herself all day, anyways. Nine days for James to realise she's not the one for him and for the stupid butterflies she gets whenever he looks at her to just die already.

Marlene rolls her eyes, clearly still convinced that she's right, but doesn't push the point any further. Instead, she starts off on a story about this past weekend, when she swears she and Dorcas saw Justin Timberlake in Soho.

Lily gets to go home early today - one of the side effects of doing a stakeout in the evening is that she's granted a half day in return.

She probably could benefit from taking a nap while she's home - she's going to be horrifically tired tomorrow morning if she doesn't - but she's also got a weird thing against midday naps and as a result, ends up showering, cleaning her apartment a bit, and reading a book instead.

On her way back to the police station, she grabs a pack of Red Bulls from a corner store and just accepts that she'll need half of them to get through tonight, and the other half to get through tomorrow.

Of course, when she gets there and walks around back to where the unmarked car they're taking to the stakeout tonight is parked, James is somehow there even earlier than she is.

"Do you know how unhealthy those are for you, Evans?" he asks with a smirk when she opens the car door. "And to think, you say my eating habits are bad."

She slides into the passenger seat and pops open one of the cans. "There's a difference between a couple energy drinks and putting Cheetos on a Cosmic Brownie."

"That was a dare," he insists. "I love both of those things individually, but I would never combine them of my own volition."

"You still ate it, that counts for something."

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you wouldn't eat that on a dare," he says, turning to face her. "If your honor was on the line, tell me you wouldn't eat some absurd food combination just to prove a point."

Given the absurd lengths she is currently going to in order to prove a point - though there's no food involved in this one - he's definitely one-hundred percent right in that assessment. "My honor isn't dependent on absurd food combinations."

"Right," James laughs, turning the car on. "I forget that you and your honor are above the rest of us mere mortals."

"Not above mortals," Lily corrects, "just above you, Sirius, Remus, and Peter."

James pauses in his attempt to back out of the police lot and puts a hand to his heart in mock offense. "So we're not even mortals anymore? What are we, some sort of goblin underling?"

"I mean, it would explain a lot," Lily teases. "You all sort of do resemble goblins, in a way."

James doesn't even look away from the road. "Are you calling me ugly, Evans? Because if so, I feel very personally attacked."

"So let me clarify, you're not offended when someone draws a dick on your forehead, but you are offended when someone insinuates that you look like a goblin?"

"Um, yes?" James replies. "How is telling someone they look like a goblin supposed to be the less offensive alternative to drawing a dick on a shitty NYPD PR photo of them?"

"Fair enough," Lily concedes. And then, because she feels like it's necessary to clarify, just in case he was actually offended, she adds, "You don't actually look like a goblin, by the way."

"That's probably the closest I'll get to a compliment from you, so I'll take it."

"Oh, shut it," she says, resisting the urge to jokingly shove him, because he's driving a car and that's not safe for anyone. "If I actually compliment you, it'll go straight to your already over inflated ego."

"If it's already over inflated, one extra compliment surely can't hurt that much?"

"Okay, now you're the one with the terrible logic," she argues. "That's like saying 'oh, if I continue to blow up an already over inflated balloon, there's nothing else bad that can happen, it definitely won't explode and hit me in the fucking face.' "

"Good point, Evans," he says. "We wouldn't want my ego to explode - that would get impossibly messy."

He cranes his head to parallel park the car across the street from the building they're meant to be watching, and the way he suddenly moves closer to her sends a waft of his cologne - or laundry detergent, or body wash, or something of his that smells impossibly tempting - towards her.

The suddenness of it immediately transports her back to last night, and the moments where she'd had him even closer - particularly, that kiss at the end of the night - and it takes more self control than it should to resist grabbing him by the collar and reprising the whole ordeal.

But they're here on business, and they're not Sirius and Remus and therefore aren't going to make out in a cop car while they're meant to be watching a potential crime scene, so Lily restrains that particular impulse.

James gets the car parked with relative ease; Lily's actually impressed at that, because she's still absolutely awful at parallel parking.

"What does an exploded ego even look like, anyways?"

He snorts. "Ask Snape?"

"Hmm, I wouldn't quite call Snape's that," Lily comments. "I think it's the opposite - why else would he overcompensate so much?"

"Why else would he overcompensate so much: title of Snape's sex tape," James replies immediately.

Lily can't suppress her giggle at that. 'Title of your sex tape' jokes are James' own version of those 'that's what she said' type lines, and while Lily probably shouldn't find that type of crude humor all that funny, she does nonetheless.

"Eugh, if Snape has a sex tape, I really hope I never, ever have to know about its existence."

"Likewise," James agrees.

They settle into easy conversation - it's not entirely unlike last night, except instead of sitting at a table for two in a Thai restaurant, they're in a parked car outside of a warehouse.

There should be all sorts of bells going off in Lily's head about how this isn't going even remotely sour, and that she needs to be trying harder to make him dislike her, but the ringing of those alarms is somehow entirely offset by the fact that she's just genuinely enjoying his presence.

"Tell me something I probably don't know about you," he says suddenly.

"What?"

"I feel like I've talked about myself a lot recently. I mean, you basically got my whole high school detention record last night; now it's your turn."

"Well, and I'm sure you won't find this surprising at all," she tells him, "I didn't get detention once in high school."

James laughs. "Somehow, I entirely expected that."

"High school me never would've expected to be working in the NYPD though," she adds, figuring that she might as well tack on something at least somewhat more surprising. "I actually wanted to be a chemist for a while; my chemistry teacher in high school adored me, and really wanted me to go the whole PhD route."

"Why'd you change your mind?"

"I realised just how expensive it'd be to be in school for that long," she replies. "And my mom got really sick my senior year of high school, and all my college savings went towards that instead."

It's not usually a story she finds herself telling very much, but she's weirdly okay with divulging this information to him.

"So I went to community college just long enough to get my associate's degree, and joined the NYPD from there - it seemed like the most impactful career I could have without needing to put myself in an extreme amount of debt."

James is looking at her, but not in the pitying way she might've expected from him. She knows that he comes from money, and that can sometimes color how people react to her story.

People who grew up comfortable often don't understand that there's a world in which both of those things - a college education and life-saving healthcare - aren't just assumed. When you're wealthy, you don't know what it's like to choose between your child's education and your wife's health - but it's the choice Lily's father had to make, and while she knows he made the right one, she still sees the regret in his eyes every once in a while when it's brought up that Lily didn't get a four-year degree. And James could never know what any of that's like.

But he doesn't actually say any of the things she'd presumed he might say. He takes her reality at face value, and doesn't question it.

"And now look at you," he says instead, with a wry sort of grin on his face, "destined to run the NYPD someday."

"I don't know about that…" Lily replies modestly, even though she would love nothing more than to reach that top office one day.

"I do," James responds. "You'd make a brilliant commissioner."

She almost wants to kiss him for that alone.

"Well, thank you," she says. "I suppose it's proof that sometimes things that feel like the end of the fucking world at the time sometimes work out in your favor."

"I can toast to that, Evans," he says, picking up his Coke bottle from the cupholder and clinking it against her Red Bull.

As soon as he puts his drink back down, she switches course. "So, tell me something I probably don't know."

"Hmm," he replies thoughtfully. "Well, despite you ribbing me about my food choices, I'm actually a pretty good cook - especially when it comes to Indian food."

That's actually relatively unexpected. "Oh really?"

"Yes really," he insists. "Better than most of the Indian places around here, if I do say so myself - my mum taught me a number of her recipes over the years."

She hums. "You'll have to show me sometime."

"Tomorrow?" he replies immediately, before fumbling his words a little bit. "I mean, yeah - I could just, if you wanted to come over to my place after work tomorrow, I could cook you dinner?"

She's a little taken aback by how quickly he'd offered, but she's honestly all too happy to spend more time with him - she's breaking all of her typical rules by spending this much time with a guy right when they've just started dating, but she just… really enjoys his presence.

Oh yeah, and the bet thing too. Seeing more of him is good for the bet thing too.

"Yeah, I'd like that," she says.

He grins at that. "I'm glad you're not sick of me yet - fuck, we've got movement."

Lily follows James' eyes to see that, sure enough, there's a van that's just pulled up outside the warehouse. Both the driver and passenger side doors open simultaneously, revealing a short man in a suit and a woman with wildly curly hair dressed in leggings and an oversized sweatshirt.

Lily immediately reaches to the gun sitting against her hip, checking that it's still there.

When the pair go into the building, that's her and James' cue to get out of the car. They do their best to do so casually - who knows if there's still a third person (or more) in the van, and they'd very much not like to blow their cover immediately.

It's a bit hard to entirely miss the bulletproof vests and guns on both of their hips once they get closer, but a few seconds of anonymity could very well be their saving grace.

They cross the street in relative silence - the only words they exchange are to confirm that Lily's going after the guy in the suit and James is in charge of catching the woman. Lily also takes a peek into the van when she gets close enough to see inside the windows, and at first glance, there doesn't appear to be anyone laying in wait.

The two people emerge from the building just a few moments later, the man holding a briefcase in one hand that he definitely didn't have when he walked in.

"NYPD, freeze!" Lily yells, pulling her gun out of its holster.

But because these things are never that easy, neither one of them actually freezes. Lily and James each go for their respective targets; the man, who's also got that briefcase of his to attend to, is noticeably slower, which very quickly results in Lily getting him on the ground.

It's not entirely unlike the maneuver she's used to get James down yesterday.

She immediately gets the man in handcuffs, and grabs the briefcase as well. Her heart is pounding in her ears as she goes through his Miranda rights - it always is, in these sorts of situations - and it's waking her up more than any Red Bull ever could.

That attuned sense of hearing means that she very distinctly hears the sound of breaking glass inside the warehouse, and immediately starts to wonder what the hell that could mean.

About a minute later, James reappears, out of breath and alone. "She had a getaway car waiting out back," he informs Lily.

"The dirty bitch didn't even tell me about that," the man in handcuffs mutters angrily. "Second in command and I don't even get to know the escape plans."

Lily's actually a bit taken aback by the revelation that he's not the one in charge. It's probably the massive difference in the way the two of them were dressed (and maybe something with her socialized biases causing her to automatically assume the man was in charge), but she really wouldn't have pinned the woman in the oversized hoodie as the one running this whole operation.

Of course, Lily still has no idea what this whole operation actually is anyways.

But that's what the person they've just arrested is for, hopefully. It remains to be seen if they'll be able to get him to talk.

"What's in the case?" James asks, grabbing onto the briefcase and following Lily's lead as she starts to bring their suspect back to the car.

"I'm not telling you that," he responds.

So it seems he's one of the stubborn ones. "We'll just be able to unlock it when we get back to the station, you know," Lily says.

The man still remains silent on the subject.

"What's your name?" James tries again.

"I'm not telling you that either," he reiterates stubbornly. "The pretty one told me I don't have to say anything without an attorney present."

"Huh, I don't remember saying that," James muses, looking over at Lily with a glint in his eye.

She can't help but quirk a smile at that, even if they are on the job right now. "Would you look at that, your ego exploded even without my assistance," she comments mildly, as she guides their suspect into the backseat of the car.

"It was a ticking timebomb, I guess," he replies, getting into the driver's seat and putting the briefcase over on Lily's side.

Backup arrives on the scene almost as soon as they're both in the car, and they take over searching the van. There's some pretty intense surveillance equipment and a number of illegal weapons - the second part is a godsend, in a weird sort of way, because it means they've got at least one charge on him and don't have to end up racing against the clock to investigate the contents of the case or interrogate him. They can push both of those things off until tomorrow morning and actually get some proper sleep tonight.

The ride back to the precinct is a bit quieter and less playful than the one on the way over - there's only so much teasing you can pull off when you've got a suspected criminal and apparent second-in-command to some sort of unknown crime operation seated behind you.

When they get back to the station, James takes on the task of bringing their suspect up to one of the holding cells, and Lily takes the case down the the evidence lockers. They'll deal with both of these things in the morning, but for now, it's well past midnight and they've successfully caught at least one part of the pair that's likely responsible for all those bodega robberies and god knows what else.

That's quite enough work for one day.

She runs into James again while she's waiting on the ground floor for a Lyft to show up; she may live walking distance from the precinct, but making that trek in the daylight is massively different from making that same trek at nearly one in the morning, and a car ride home feels like the much safer option here.

"Good work tonight, Evans," he says, walking up next to her.

"You as well."

He runs one of his hands through his hair, before asking, "So… do you actually want to come to my place for dinner tomorrow?"

"I said yes, didn't I?" she replies, nudging him with her shoulder.

"Well, yeah but I didn't know if - I don't know, maybe you'd changed your mind?"

She looks over at him, a bit taken aback to discover that he actually looks serious about it. And she's confused by it - why would she be the one to change her mind in this situation?

He's the one that's meant to eventually get sick of her, anyways.

"I haven't changed my mind," she reassures him.

His expression melts into something akin to relief. "Oh. Good, I'm looking forward to it then."

"Me too."

She realises that they've somehow moved to face each other over the course of this exchange, and for the second time tonight, she's all-too-tempted to go for a revival of last night.

She almost goes for it this time too, shifting her weight to the balls of her feet as if to pop up on her tiptoes to kiss him - because he's so close and somehow still smells so good despite literally chasing down a criminal earlier tonight - but she's stopped at the last minute by the lights that come streaming into the front windows of the station.

"Shit, uh, fuck, that's my ride," she says, immediately doing her best to collect herself. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah? Both, uh, at work in the morning and at your place tomorrow night."

Now it's her turn to sound like a nervous wreck, apparently.

But instead of calling her out on her sudden awkwardness, he just smiles at her. "See you tomorrow, Evans."

She spends the entire ride home trying to tell her brain to get it together, for fuck's sake. She's supposed to be showing him why they're incompatible, not fucking collapsing into a puddle every time he looks at her with that silly glint in his eyes.

She'll get her shit together tomorrow.

Maybe.

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