Special delivery for ozma_katiebell Title: Brand New Lover Author Recipient's LJ name:ozma_katiebell Pairing(s): Charlie/Tonks, Kingsley/Tonks Rating: NC-17 Summary: In order to get Molly to stop playing matchmaker, Kingsley and Tonks embark on an elaborate romantic ruse. But sometimes, fantasy becomes fact. Word Count: ~10,000 Warnings/Content: polyamoury, a bit of flangst, nothing very controversial Author's notes: This is for the amazing ozma_katiebell who asked for so many lovely things including both pairings, UST, snappy dialogue, oral sex, standing up sex, sex in a semi-public place, friends who are afraid to risk more, fics that incorporate letter writing, third wheels being thrown together, and getting involved with a co-worker. *catches breath* Yes, I know you said only one or two would be fine, but I really liked them all too much to exclude any of them. I do hope this is what you were hoping for.
My thanks to R., S. & M. for their help, support and brainstorming, and as always, R. for her betaing services. My gratitude to the mods for being so patient, and my apologies to Eddie Izzard for stealing one of his best jokes.
Dear DoraNympha Tonks,
How are you?
I am fine. I miss you
Things have been very busy here at the Reserve. We just had a new clutch of Ukrainian Ironbellys hatch and they're—
Charlie Weasley stared down at the letter he was attempting to write, then balled up the parchment, and with a heaved sigh, tossed it effortlessly into the nearby rubbish bin. The bin belched loudly as the discarded letter disappeared; after countless attempts, Charlie could only imagine the bin was filled to the gills. Well, if a bin actually had gills, of course.
He'd always hated writing letters. Charlie knew he was as charming as the day was long when it came to dealing with people — particularly girls — face to face, but when he had to put his words on the page, he was absolutely, positively pants. It was even more difficult when the person in question was his girlfriend — ex-girlfriend, he reminded himself — who was approximately 1300 miles away and hadn't actually been his girlfriend in over four years.
Down deep, Charlie knew he was being ridiculous. Tonks wasn't his girl anymore. They'd ended their on-again, off-again relationship when they'd left school, Charlie going to Romania and Tonks to the Auror training program. They'd promised to remain friends no matter what, and surprisingly, they had. Of course, he'd hardly been pining over her since then; he wasn't a Muggle monk, after all. There had been plenty of women in the interim, and he had to assume Tonks had seen blokes too, and yet, his thoughts kept going back to her.
Grimacing, Charlie pulled out a fresh piece of parchment, dipped his quill into the open bottle of ink by his elbow and made another attempt at writing something interesting.
~*~
Dear Tonks,
Salut! Greetings from Fagaras! So, how are you?
Tonks reread Charlie's letter for the third time in a row, her face screwed up in concentration as she tried to fathom the intent of his words. She knew that after four years, she shouldn't react this way just because he deigned to write to her: the rush of elation when she saw the Romanian owl landing on her window sill this morning, the giddiness upon reading his exploits catching dragon hatchlings who'd escaped from their pen, the pang of regret that things had not worked out. Again. It was obvious from his letters that Charlie had moved on — he'd made a point of going into lurid detail about his latest, albeit disastrous, dates.
From Charlie's missives, it seemed as if he was as knee-deep in women as he was in dragon poo. Not surprising given his popularity back at Hogwarts. Nearly every girl in school wanted a piece of Charlie Weasley, Quidditch Captain. Even when she'd had him to herself, Tonks had been constantly looking over her shoulder, keeping an eye out for potential rivals plotting to hex her or curse her just for being with Charlie. It was one of the things that had helped her get into the Auror training programme. Mad-Eye Moody had no idea how much constant vigilance was required when you were going out with the most well-liked athlete in school.
She glanced down and reading the final words again: "Hope you're doing well. Write when you can. Yours, Charlie" Just what had he meant by that? Before she could consider it further, a deep voice rumbled in her ear, "Evidence for a case there, Tonks?"
"Wh-what?" Tonks squeaked, hastily shoving the parchment into her desk drawer. She turned to face Kingsley Shacklebolt, her fellow Auror and immediate superior. Her cheeks burned in embarrassment as she realised he'd caught her red-handed.
He loomed over her, his expression one of abject amusement, and shook his bald head in mock dismay. "Reading personal letters on Ministry time? Don't let Scrimgeour catch you at that. He's in one of his moods and looking for someone to take it out on. The lower on the food chain, the better."
"It's n-nothing important," she stammered, duly noting his warning about the Head Auror's current mood.
"So unimportant that you're now the colour of an beet?" Kingsley teased. "You need to work on your body language and keeping your face impassive when you lie, Tonks. I can read you like an open book." He grinned down at her. "If I were your training instructor, I'd have given you a "T" in Subterfuge."
"I'll have you know I got top marks in that subject!" Tonks huffed. "It was just Stealth that I was pants at."
He gave her a quick nod in response, then lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Molly's invited us all to supper tonight, if you're free. Arthur says she's made a roast."
"At—," she glanced around to make certain no one was listening in to their conversation, "HQ?"
Kingsley shook his head, almost imperceptibly. "The Burrow. Round about seven. Informal gathering, hence the change of venue. Do you need to consult your diary to see if you can squeeze it into your hectic schedule?"
"Hardly." Tonks wished she actually had other plans, but these days, her social life such as it was only revolved around her job and the Order of the Phoenix. And Molly Weasley's meals were preferable to anything Tonks could manage to cook on her own.
On the other hand, Molly had a propensity for pairing people off which would put a professional matchmaker to shame. Recently, Molly had attempted to nudge her eldest son, Bill, in Tonks' direction. Aside from the utter embarrassment of being set up with her former boyfriend's older brother (although Molly seemed to be blissfully unaware that Charlie had ever been anything more than a friend and schoolmate), and the fact that Bill wasn't particularly Tonks's type, it had turned out that he was off the market, having already been taken by a young French girl (part Veela no less) that he'd met the year before.
Tonks had no wish to be set up with anyone else; with the way things were going, the only single men left that Molly knew were Mundungus Fletcher or Albus Dumbledore.
"Shall I tell Arthur you'll be there, then?"
She gave a hesitant shrug. "I s'pose. Not like I've got anywhere else to go."
Kingsley raised an eyebrow. "Now that sounds a bit grim."
"Besides," Tonks added, her mouth curling up into a cheeky smirk, "it might be worthwhile just to watch you trying to avoid Hestia's advances for an evening."
That elicited a snort from Kingsley. "That obvious, is she?"
"Blimey, she couldn't be any more obvious if she took her clothes off and danced naked on the table for you," she replied. "You're not secretly encouraging her when no one's around, are you?"
"Hardly." He paused, then looked at her intently, as if considering his words with great care. "Actually, I've had a brain wave about that. Assuming you want to go along with it, that is."
"Which is?"
"Well, it seems to me that Molly has been trying to find you a proper husband at every given opportunity, and she's always going on about how I need to find myself a nice witch and settle down—" Kingsley rolled his eyes disdainfully. "So, what if we," he indicated Tonks and himself with a wave of his hand, "were to become a couple tonight. Just to put her — and anyone else unwanted — off the scent. At least for a little while."
"You and me?" Tonks stared at him in disbelief. "Not minutes ago, you were telling me I was pants at subterfuge, and now you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend? In public?"
"Well, not exactly in public. You know how Scrimgeour is about fraternisation in the office." Kingsley grinned at her. "Just around Molly for a bit. Nothing major. I'm not asking you to strip off and dance naked on the table for me. Although I'm certain it would be a most amusing sight."
"Pull the other one," Tonks muttered.
"We could be subtle about it. Assuming you can do subtle, Nymphadora. Just a bit of hand holding, a bit of flirtation, some hint of intimacy. We don't even have to tell them what's going on. Let Molly make her own deductions based on what's presented to her."
"I'm not sure Molly Weasley would recognise subtle if it bit her on the arse," Tonks quipped. "What if people talk?" The last thing she wanted was to be in the centre of Order gossip.
"Let them." Kingsley shrugged. "We can be coy about it. Neither confirm or deny."
"You Ravenclaws and your cunning plans," she muttered.
"Oh, come on, Tonks, it might be good for a laugh if nothing else. Besides, I don't really want to hurt Hestia, but the bloody woman refuses to grasp the concept that I'm not interested in her. Perhaps if she thinks my attention is elsewhere, she'll finally get a clue."
"All right. I suppose it's worth a try. Molly seems to have set her sights on me as a potential daughter-in-law — if I'm not careful she'll work her way through all of her sons, throwing 'em at me until she finds one that sticks." Kingsley had heard about the debacle with Bill, although she'd never confided in him about her former relationship with Charlie. "Thank goodness her precious Percy isn't talking to her right now or I'd have to deal with him as he's next in line."
"Hmm. Compared to Percy Weasley, I'd like to think I'm an excellent catch," Kingsley said dryly.
"I'm sure Hestia Jones would agree wholeheartedly."
~*~
The next morning, Tonks stumbled to her desk, still fighting her way towards consciousness. Mornings had never been her strong suit, and she doubted they ever would be. Unfortunately for her, most of the Wizarding World refused to bend to her will when it came to the hours they kept.
"Good morning," Kingsley leaned over the cubicle wall brandishing a large, steaming mug of coffee.
"That for me?" she asked, eyeing it hopefully.
"Of course." He nodded, then extended it towards her. "You look like you could use one."
"Do I?" she asked, stifling a yawn, then accepted the mug with a grateful smile. Kingsley made sure she was gripping it tightly before letting go. Tonks inhaled deeply before taking a sip, revelling in the aroma of strong coffee. It smelled — and tasted — delicious. "Must be 'cos some pillock kept me out late last night."
"Oh?" Kingsley asked, giving her an innocent expression. "Had a hot date last night, did you?"
Tonks responded with a snort. "If only."
"Surely it wasn't that terrible."
The corner of her mouth quirked up into a grin. "Actually, I've had much worse experiences, truth be known. Last night was enjoyable by comparison." She fished a spoon from her desk drawer, deciding it looked clean, then gave the coffee a quick stir before drinking a bit more. "Mmmm." She sighed in contentment, helping herself to another swallow.
"So, I got that right at least?"
"You ought to know how I like my coffee by now, Kingsley." Her grin grew wider. "Just the way I like my men: strong, dark, and with a spoon in 'em."
"Hmmm. Better that than a fork, I suppose," he mused. "Still, I don't think I want to know what you like to do with that spoon..."
She waggled her eyebrows lasciviously. "You never know, mate. You might enjoy it." Pulling the spoon out of the mug, she licked it slowly, watching Kingsley's dark eyes grow wide with interest as she dragged her tongue across the warm metal.
A muffled groan escaped from his lips.
"What's the matter, Kingsley? Kneazle got your tongue?" Tonks teased, glancing up at him over the mug.
"I'm beginning to see why Pomona said you didn't know how to behave in her reference letter for you," he finally muttered. "I suppose we should've taken her recommendations far more seriously before letting you into the Auror's programme."
"Ha. Well, it's too late now, mate," Tonks countered. "You lot are stuck with me. Besides, if you sack me, who'll keep that cow Hestia at bay?"
"Hmph. I suppose there is that."
Tonks laughed. "Blimey, did you see her face last night when we came in together? Could've knocked her over with a quill."
He nodded in assent, a smile playing on his lips. "Molly was fit to be tied as well. I'm afraid we bollixed up her very carefully planned seating arrangements by insisting on sitting next to one other at dinner. I think she may never forgive me."
"Nah, she'll never forgive me," Tonks replied. "Didn't you hear her dropping the name of her nephew Bedwyr to me every five minutes? At least, I think he's her nephew — one of them Weasleys at any rate, there's so bloody many of 'em — she clearly wanted me to ask about him. She was dead disappointed to find out I'm no longer available."
"Well, perhaps she can introduce him to Hestia instead. I hear she's looking for a man," Kingsley suggested. He cast Tonks a sly look. "No doubt there are plenty of other Weasley bachelors still out there for you if you're that desperate to have one, Tonks."
"Only in Molly's dreams. I'm happy the way things are, thank you." She gave him a sidelong glance, pausing to drink more of her coffee before continuing. "I really did have a nice time last night. If you want to keep up the pretence, it's certainly all right by me, mate."
"I was hoping you'd say that," Kingsley said with a nod. He paused briefly before saying, "I was thinking that perhaps we ought to go out some night —"
"You mean like a proper date?"
"Yes, something like that. At least to be seen in public once or twice. Nothing formal, just dinner at the Leaky Cauldron, perhaps? Unless you think we ought to go somewhere posher...? I hardly want to insult you—"
"Nah, pub grub's fine with me. Besides, people like Scrimgeour," Tonks jutted her chin in the direction of their boss's office, "go out to posh places. We don't want him getting the wrong idea about us, now, do we? Just'll get his knickers in knots if he thinks we're fraternising."
"No," conceded Kingsley. "I suppose not. Then the Leaky Cauldron it is. We'll find some night we're not working—"
Tonks knew that was actually code for doing business for the Order, rather than for the Ministry.
"And have ourselves a nice meal."
"Sounds lovely." She smiled up at him. "I could do with a night out."
~*~
Tonks arrived outside the Leaky Cauldron at eight o'clock, and then checked her watch several times in rapid succession to make sure she wasn't too early or too late. Her heart was thudding in her chest and she could feel herself trembling, her legs threatening to give way. She felt light-headed and giddy; she hadn't felt this way since she'd gone out with Charlie on their first date during their fifth year. Charlie had lost a bet as to who would win the latest Quidditch match (Hufflepuff had beaten Gryffindor handily that day just as Tonks had predicted) and as the loser, he'd had to take her to Hogsmeade.
She'd been fourteen then, not nearly twenty-two, so there was really no reason to be nervous, or so she kept telling herself. And it had been a real date, whereas this was just a ruse to keep Molly, Hestia and any prospective suitors away. It wasn't as if Kingsley had any interest in her that way. She laughed nervously at the thought. What would a man like him possibly see in someone like her?
Inhaling deeply, Tonks tried to calm her nerves and smoothed her skirt down one last time. It suddenly seemed too short and too tight to be suitable. Kingsley was her co-worker and her de facto boss, not some bloke she was hoping to take home and shag. What had she been thinking?
"Ah, Tonks, there you are." Kingsley's deep voice broke into her thoughts, causing her to look up, startled. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd changed your mind."
"Do a runner and then have to face you at work tomorrow morning? I don't think so, mate," she said, forcing herself to smile. "You'd most likely transfigure me into a newt first chance you got." As she caught a good look at him, her wan smile turned into a genuine grin. Kingsley was a handsome man, but tonight, he looked incredible. She was used to seeing him in his Auror's robes or casual clothing at Order meetings, not the dress clothes he had on now. His robes were a deep aubergine with gold pin stripes, and cut to accentuate his tall, muscular frame. The gold hoop which dangled from his earlobe was a final, elegant touch. "My, you clean up nicely, Mr. Shacklebolt," she blurted.
"I was just about to say the same thing, my dear," Kingsley replied, his eyes roving over her as his mouth twisted into a wry smile. "You look beautiful."
Tonks felt herself blushing. She cast her eyes down demurely, feeling uncustomarily shy. "Thank you," she whispered.
Kingsley chuckled, then offered her his arm. "Shall we go inside?"
~*~
Dinner had gone well. Tonks had been surprised at how comfortable she'd been while talking to Kingsley; despite working together at the Ministry and with the Order, they'd never really socialized before this. There had never been the opportunity in the past, and Tonks found herself enjoying Kingsley's company immensely. He was clever and well-versed in many areas, but he was also funny. He'd told her about his time at Hogwarts and how he'd driven Filius Flitwick spare with his misbehaviour while in Ravenclaw. Kingsley Shacklebolt had hardly been the staid, poker-up-the-arse, play-by-the rules sort she'd imagined him to be.
In turn, he'd been impressed by Tonks' antics at school, although he had heard about them through her former Head of House when Tonks had applied to the Aurors' program. Kingsley had admitted, rather dryly, that her penchant for breaking the rules and flair for innovative improvisation had been the main reasons she'd been accepted in the first place. It was wasn't just the top marks and outstanding N.E.W.T scores he and Alastor Moody had been looking for in prospective candidates to the programme.
One dinner, a long conversation and several bottles of wine later, and they were ready to leave. Kingsley paid the bill, then escorted Tonks out of the pub, smirking as he saw Mundungus Fletcher give them an open mouthed double-take as they exited.
Tonks burst into giggles as they walked outside. "Blimey, the entire Order's going to hear about this now."
Kingsley nodded, then canted his head in thought. "Or he'll be at my door demanding a large amount of Galleons in order to insure his silence on the matter."
"Dung, a blackmailer?"
"The man would sell his own grandmother if he thought he could turn a profit. I can't imagine him not trying to turn this to his financial advantage."
Tonks nodded. "But I reckon he'd make certain to give his Nan a percentage afterwards. He's not really that awful, is he?"
Cocking an eyebrow, Kingsley gave her a pointed look. "Oh, you foolish, trusting Hufflepuffs. You're always thinking the best of everyone."
"Nah, not everyone. Just most. Besides, Dumbledore thinks he's trustworthy, so there must be something about the bloke that's all right." She paused, then shrugged. "Still, the question is will you pay 'im when he comes round to collect."
Kingsley's face broke into a broad smile. "Of course not. I've got better ways to deal with blackmailers." To Tonks's surprise, he draped an arm around her shoulders. "We want our colleagues to hear about this at any rate, don't we?"
"Indeed."
They walked to the closest Apparation point, talking and laughing.
"Well, here we are," Tonks said. Kingsley nodded, then looked over his shoulder.
"I should take you home."
"Aw, c'mon, mate, I can take care of myself," she insisted.
"I know that. I just want to be certain you made it home unscathed, Nymphadora. You're a valuable member of our team, and these days, one can never be too careful."
Unable to think of any way to counter his argument, Tonks relented, letting him put his arms around her in a loose embrace and then Apparating both of them to the doorstep of her flat block. It took a minute to reorient herself, still resting in his arms, her head swimming from the heady combination of the Side-Along Apparation and the wine. Feeling her knees buckle, Tonks gripped at Kingsley to steady herself. His arms tightened around her waist, and before she could say another word, his mouth was brushing against hers lightly. The contact was immediate and visceral, sending a jolt of excitement shooting up her spine.
She blinked in surprise, then pulled away slightly. "No one's around to see, mate. You don't have to—" she said, trying her best to sound nonchalant and unfazed, although she was more confused than ever.
"I know I don't have to, Nymphadora." His lips curved up into a half-smile. "I just wanted to."
"Oh," she breathed, then tilted her head up towards his. "In that case—"
He reached out and tucked a lock of her spiky hair behind her ear. "Shall I continue, then?"
"Please."
Kingsley drew her in closer, kissing her more intently this time. Tonks relaxed in his embrace and kissed him back with equal zeal. It had been quite some time since she'd been kissed like this, and Kingsley was an excellent kisser, a fact she was not too surprised to discover.
He reached up, cupping the back of her head with his hand, his fingers burrowing in her hair as she wound one arm around his neck, pulling him down to meet her. The pair continued for quite some time, their kisses growing in intensity. This time it was Kingsley who broke it off, his face still mere inches from her own. He was breathing hard, his eyes locked on hers.
"D-do you want to come in for a coffee?" Tonks managed, forcing the words out as if she'd forgotten how to do anything but kiss him.
"I—" Kingsley closed his eyes, then swallowed hard, drawing in a deep breath. "I would love to, Tonks, but I think I had better go home. Otherwise, I'll never leave."
"But—" she protested. Kingsley laid a finger against her lips to quiet her.
"Not tonight," he said, his voice tinged with regret. "We're co-workers and colleagues, and if something's to happen between us, I'd rather we don't rush in." He kissed her quickly again. "However tempting it is."
Tonks bit her lower lip and let out a sigh.
"I've got an early meeting tomorrow, and Rufus will have my guts for garters if I'm late. You know how he is." Kingsley let his index finger trail slowly down the side of her neck, making her shiver. "Let me see you to your door?"
Taking his free hand in hers, Tonks nodded, then took a step towards her flat.
~*~
Charlie,
I'm so sorry it's taken so long for me to write back. Things have been really busy here and every time I've tried to start a letter, something's gotten in the way. We're still doing our best to locate that fiend, Sirius Black. Kingsley reckons he's somewhere in Scandinavia now. At least that's the last report we've got. Let me know if you hear of anything out your way. It's possible the tricksy bastard has left Jutland and has made his way farther East since then.
Speaking of Kingsley, we've been working very closely together lately on some cases. He's a top bloke, but I suppose you already knew that already.
Seething, Charlie pushed Dora's letter away in disgust. He didn't need to read any more — lately, all her letters had been full of gushing over Kingsley bloody Shacklebolt and her adventures with him at Aurors' Headquarters. He didn't need to be a Ravenclaw to read between the lines. It wasn't as if his mother hadn't told him outright in her last letter how cozy the pair of them had been when they'd turned up at Order meetings and dinners recently, billing and cooing like a proper couple. He supposed 'working very closely together' meant shagging like a pair of mad Kneazles in Tonks' mind.
The back of his neck and his ears burned as he scowled at the letter, as if the parchment itself were to blame. If Tonks was trying to make him jealous, she was certainly doing a good job of it. He knew he had no bloody right to be, of course, and could imagine the tongue-lashing Tonks would give him if she had any clue about how he felt. They hadn't been together in four years – she was free to go out with whomever she pleased, just as he was. It took a lot to make Charlie feel inadequate when it came to women, but in this case, he could hardly not be. Shacklebolt was everything Charlie was not: clever, suave, sophisticated, politically savvy, and most of all tall.
~*~
"Tonks, are you free?" Kingsley asked as Tonks walked past his cubicle, a stack of case files in her hand. "I've got some new information about the whereabouts of Sirius Black and thought you might be able to assist me."
There was a snort from fellow Auror, Julius Williamson who stood by Kingsley's desk, his long brown ponytail swinging gently as he shook his head in annoyance. It reminded Tonks of the back-end of a angry centaur she'd once had to contend with — rather fitting given that Williamson was pretty much the epitome of a horse's arse in her opinion. "There's nothing she can do to help with this," he grumbled. "I know far more about the case than she does."
"Blimey, Williamson, if you stuck your head any farther up Shacklebolt's arse, you'd be coming out his mouth," Tonks snapped, dropping the files on Kingsley's desk with a thud. Williamson was a terrible Auror whose only real talents were bum-licking and toadying up to anyone in a position of power.
"Settle down, children." Kingsley turned to Williamson with a grin. "I asked Nymphadora to help out because she could use some additional experience with this sort of case. Really, you're far too clever to waste your time playing clerk for me, Julius."
Williamson sniggered and clapped Kingsley on the shoulder, his expression smug. "At least you've found a proper use for her, old man."
Tonks bit back a retort, her cheeks flushing with anger.
"If you're available tonight, that is, Miss Tonks," Kingsley continued, as if oblivious to her reaction. "You would have to stay after hours, of course. It could be a long night. If you've got other plans, you're welcome to say 'no'."
"No, no other plans," she said, her jaw clenching and her fingers curling into fists. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans before either man saw. She dearly wanted to hex Kingsley until he was covered with runny boils; he knew damn well that if she turned out the offer, Williamson would immediately go running to Scrimgeour to tell him she was too busy with her personal life to help track down a wanted murderer.
"Very good then," Kingsley said with a nod before turning to Williamson again. "Jools, actually, if you could find me the eyewitness interviews from the Esbjerg sightings, that would be most beneficial."
Williamson beamed as broadly as if Kingsley had just promoted him to Head Boy. "I'll be back in a tic."
"Knut for your thoughts?" Kingsley waited until Williamson had exited the cubicle before speaking again, moving close enough to stroke an index finger up the length of Tonks' arm. She jerked away as if burned.
"I'm not your bloody secretary," Tonks hissed.
"Tonks," he said softly. "Do you honestly think that's how I see you? It was the only possible way to get Williamson out of here — and I do have to work on the Black case tonight. I thought you might want to keep me company, then go to dinner with me afterward."
Pursing her lips, she considered his request. "You might've run those plans by me before telling that wanker, Williamson, I'm your dogsbody, you know."
He raised his hands in defeat, giving her a contrite look. "You're right. I should have, but there wasn't time to ask. Williamson's been hanging about all day, looking for ways to ingratiate himself to me." Kingsley let out an exasperated sigh. "The chap's as annoying as a case of the dragon pox, but we need him on our side." He reached out to stroke her arm again, causing Tonks to relent just a little. "I'd much rather have you here than him though."
She sniffed in irritation, not so easily mollified. "It had best be a nice dinner."
"It will be." He took her hand in his, and bent his head, his breath warm against her skin as he pressed his lips to her knuckles.
"Kingsley!" Tonks glanced nervously over to the entrance of his cubicle; the other Aurors were still going about their business, oblivious to what was going on between the two of them. "What if...?"
"Screening spell," he murmured. "If anyone looks over, all they'll see is us having a nice chat. It won't cover too much for too long, but it'll give us a little bit of privacy. For example—" Kingsley tugged her closer, catching her up in a strong embrace, kissing her fully on the mouth. Tonks responded, moulding herself against him, not protesting as he cupped her breast and gave it a light squeeze.
She moaned against his lips, letting her hand slide down the length of his broad back to grab at his firm arse through his robes. Much to her frustration, they had not gotten much further than this on their dates. Kingsley was adamant that they take things slowly, insisting that their friendship and their work relationship were far more important to maintain than anything else. Tonks knew that wasn't just a handy excuse to keep her at arms' length; his erection pushing through his robes and against her thigh proved otherwise. The man was just too damn principled.
Suddenly, Kingsley pulled away and gave her a quick shove back. "Williamson," he rasped, smoothing out his robes in haste.
"Here are the interviews you wanted, boss." Williamson came barrelling into the office, brandishing a pile of parchment. "Rasmussen just Floo'd them over in person."
"Very good. Put them over here. Tonks can make herself useful by compiling them for me." Kingsley pointed to an empty chair. "Let's get to work, then, shall we?"
*
It seemed like it was hours before the other Aurors had left for the night, and the office was finally, blissfully empty. It had been like pulling teeth to get Williamson to leave, the other wizard unwilling to give up any minute chance of proving himself to Kingsley or giving Tonks an advantage whatsoever.
A huge map of the world was laid out on Kingsley's desk, assorted locations all marked with glowing red dots. "So, I was thinking either Vladivostok or perhaps as far as Osaka..." Kingsley said, tapping the appropriate cities with the tip of his wand.
"I dunno why you're putting so much thought into this," Tonks countered. "Might as well just close your eyes and stab a likely place with a large pin. It would be a bit of a laugh for them to try and suss out why my cousin had gone there — wherever there is, of course — rather than somewhere more logical." She laughed, giving Kingsley a good-natured poke in the ribs. "You bloody Ravenclaws are far too caught up in logic."
Kingsley pulled a face. "The man is a known criminal and on the run. There has to be some method to his madness, Tonks."
"Hardly. You know what he's like — he'd just piss off to somewhere else if he was sussed out." Tonks craned her neck, studying the map for a moment. "How does Francis Sisko sound to you?"
"Do you mean 'San Francisco'?"
"Erm, yes. I think so. Is it warm there? Sirius ought to go somewhere warm and sunny this time round. I hear it's nice in Belize this time of year. Or Auckland. Or...even Bermuda. If he somewhere like that, then we could bugger off and search for him and have a nice holiday at the same time." Her mouth twisted into a cheeky grin. "All at the Ministry's expense!"
"A holiday, is it?" Kingsley mused. "Perhaps I ought to report you to Rufus for misuse of Ministry funds, young lady. You are absolutely diabolical."
"I've been told I'd have made a bloody good Slytherin." She pulled a face at the thought. "I just want a change of scenery, mate. And an excuse to have you see me in a bikini."
His eyebrows shot up in response to her words. "As I said, diabolical."
"And that's why you like me?" Tonks looped her arms around his neck, pulling his head down to hers.
"That is one of the reasons," he conceded, then kissed her.
Tonks' lips parted, allowing his tongue entrance to swirl against her own. His arms snaked around her waist and he manoeuvred her around, pushing her gently against his desk., the edge pressing sharply against the small of her back. Tonks scooted backward as she clung to him, pulling him with her. The map crinkled beneath her, and she was vaguely aware that the Middle East and part of Africa were being obscured by her bum.
Kingsley kissed along the line of her jaw, stopping to nip at her earlobe. "We should...finish this job...first," he panted in her ear, his breath hot against her ear.
"No," Tonks insisted, running her fingers down his chest to palm his crotch through the fabric of his robes, "we need to finish this first." Kingsley's breath hitched at her touch. "Williamson's gone, they're all bloody gone for the night. We're alone."
"Not. Quite." Kingsley forced out as he shifted his hips forward, slowly rubbing against her hand. He reached for his wand, finally grabbing it and pointing it towards the door to cast a silent spell. "There. Now no one can get in. No house-elves. No char-ladies. No anyone."
"Brilliant." Tonks snatched him by his lapels, pulling him back to her. "Now shut up and shag me." She'd prepared an arsenal of counterarguments should Kingsley protest, but they were all unnecessary. Instead, he kissed her again, his hands already on the front of her robes, unbuttoning them with deft expertise before stripping them off entirely. Making short work of her bra, Kingsley buried his face between her bared breasts with an appreciative sigh.
Tonks stroked his head in encouragement, savouring the smooth skin of his head beneath her fingertips. A low moan escaped her throat as Kingsley's mouth found one nipple, sucking hard, his teeth exerting light pressure. His hand closed over her other breast, kneading and caressing with unbridled enthusiasm.
She reached for the clasp of his robes, shoving them back over his shoulders, dragging the blunt edge of her nails over his dark skin as she did. Kingsley groaned in approval, his fingers tightening over the swell of her breast as he continued.
Her fingertips slid down the line of his broad chest to his stomach, moving in slow concentric arcs, until she finally reached the top of his trousers. She stopped to fumble with the buckle of his belt, but distracted by the feel of his mouth against her skin, it took a few tries before she could get the belt undone. After that, it was easy enough to unfasten his trousers, her hands dipping beneath the rough fabric and the waistband of his boxers to wrap around his cock.
The move elicited a guttural moan and a frantic jerk of his hips as he thrust into her hand. Encouraged by the response, Tonks began to stroke him slowly, her fingers sliding over his hard length. Kingsley reciprocated by ranging his kisses lower, licking and nibbling at the undersides of one breast, then the other, before making his way down the soft expanse of her belly. The move forced Tonks to let go, but Kingsley didn't seem to mind, unzipping her jeans and working them over her hips, then off completely, followed immediately by her knickers.
Forcing her knees wider apart with strong hands, Kingsley knelt in front of her, and began to kiss and nip along the insides of her thighs with great fervour. He yanked her forward, draping her legs over his shoulders, and settled himself between her thighs, his hands firmly on her hips. His tongue flitted against her clit, making her gasp, as his fingers stroked and teased along the sensitive flesh of her cunt.
She whimpered, squirming in his grasp, her fingers digging into his bare shoulders to keep herself steady. Kingsley continued his assault with fingers, lips and tongue, licking, sucking and touching her with abandon until she was in a frenzy, writhing and thrashing on the desk, moaning his name. Her hand shot out, knocking over supplies, sending a bottle of ink crashing to the floor, along with files, rolls of parchment and several quills.
Ignoring the mess, Kingsley pulled away to shrug out of his robes, allowing her to tug frantically at his trousers, pooling them somewhere around his ankles. She took in the sight of him: tall, dark and well-muscled, the hard length of his cock curving up against the flat of his stomach; she made an appreciative noise as she beckoned him to come to her.
Kingsley wasted no time in complying, leaning over her prone form to capture her mouth with his own. Her skin burned at his touch as she drew him closer, wrapping her legs around his hips. She could feel the head of his cock nudging her entrance, and then Kingsley pushed forward, sheathing himself inside her, balls deep. She gasped, constricting around him as she gripped his buttocks, jerking her hips up to meet his in a frantic staccato rhythm.
They began to move in tandem, matching thrust for thrust, starting slow and then growing in intensity until they'd hit a frantic pace. Tonks arched her back, desperate for contact, clutching at him as her vision exploded to white behind her eyes, sending her spiralling down into the flood of orgasmic bliss. Kingsley gave a one final thrust, and then she felt the hot rush of his release as he shuddered and shook in her arms.
It seemed like an eternity before she came back to herself, Kingsley peppering her damp face with soft kisses as he caressed her. Drawing in a deep breath, Tonks slowly opened her eyes, gazing up at him. The corner of her mouth quirked up into a smirk as she murmured "All right, then. Now we can get back to work."
~*~
Charlie had considered writing to Tonks, or perhaps sending her a Patronus, to let her know he was coming home for a meeting of the Order. Normally he did just that, but this time, it seemed pointless. She had a new man, and that negated any courtesies he might have extended to her in the past. It angered him that she was carrying on with Shacklebolt in front of the others — it wasn't as if he was showing up with a new bird on his arm to rub Dora's nose in it, was it?
Of course, even Charlie had brought home a girlfriend from Romania, she couldn't have attended the meeting anyway. But, he thought, if he had been shagging some member of the Order — despite the slim pickings there — just who was he going to chat up? Minerva McGonagall? Emmaline Vance? Arabella Figg? — Dora would've had every right to be just as hacked off as Charlie felt now.
He wasn't even sure why he was attending the meeting this time round. His efforts to rally support from foreign wizards had been fruitless so far, leaving him uncharacteristically frustrated and angry. He hated returning to Dumbledore empty-handed, and the prospect of seeing Tonks again left him with a cold, hard knot in the pit of his stomach.
When he did arrive at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, it was worse than he'd expected. Tonks barely acknowledged his presence, giving him the briefest of nods, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment and her fingers tightly entwined with Shacklebolt's. Shacklebolt, on the other hand, was as relaxed and nonchalant as could be, greeting Charlie with a clap on the back and a broad smile. Charlie could only assume that Shacklebolt had absolutely no clue about the previous relationship between Tonks and himself.
Charlie felt slightly ashamed. Shacklebolt was a good bloke and it wasn't his fault that he was in such a strop over Dora. It wasn't as if Shacklebolt had done it just to get at him personally.
Sitting through the meeting was utterly painful, the basement kitchen feeling both gloomy and claustrophobic. Charlie's temper only grew as he watched Tonks and Shacklebolt sitting side by side, his arm around her shoulders, their heads pressed together as they whispered to one another. Each of the Order members stood in turn, reporting to the others, sharing intelligence and filling their colleagues in on the progress of their assorted missions. Charlie felt like a right plank as he got to his feet and announced he'd made absolutely no headway on his assignment. All of the witches and wizards he'd approached had been too afraid to take a stand against the Dark Lord.
Finally, it was over, his mother calling for refreshments and more pleasant conversation. He considered bolting the house immediately, but it would only have led to a confrontation with his mum later, and that was the last thing he needed. Instead, he exited the room, heading up the stairs to the ground floor. Even the screeching from Black's mother's portrait had to be more pleasant than what he'd just endured.
"Ooph!" Tonks gasped as Charlie barrelled into her. She grabbed at a sideboard, catching herself before she toppled over. "Blimey, Weasley, watch where you're going, will you?"
Charlie raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Weasley? Is that how it is now, Dora? You can't even remember my damn name? What are you doing lurking about up here anyway? You're as bad as that mad House-Elf."
Her mouth hung open for a moment, her face turning the colour of an ripe plum before she spoke again. "I had to go to the loo and the one near the kitchen was occupied," she snarled. "And of course I remember your name, Charlie. There, is that better?"
"No, it's not." He crossed his arms over his chest in annoyance. "Just because you've taken up with some other bloke doesn't mean you've got to treat me like I've got Scrofungulus, you know. I certainly haven't done anything wrong!"
"So, what's that mean? That I have?" Tonks spat back.
"Perhaps."
Tonks glared at him, her hands planted firmly on her hips. "Maybe I've taken up with a new bloke because I realised I needed to stop pining over some prat who broke my heart, and it was bloody well time to finally move on."
"I broke your heart?" Charlie echoed. "Seems to me that you were the one that stomped all over mine, Dora."
"I'm not about to have this conversation, mate." She glanced up at the wall, her eyes fixing on the portrait of Black's horrible mother. "Especially not around her. If she wakes up, she'll just be ranting about blood traitors and abominations and the like. That's the last thing I want to hear."
"Fine, we don't have to have it here, but you don't get to walk away from this without me having my say," he insisted, grabbing her arm. "I'm not going to let you make wild accusations about what I did to you without knowing my side of it."
"Gerroff." She tried to shake him off, but Charlie refused to let go and dragged her, shouting and smacking at him, out of the entry way and into the dining room, slamming the door behind them. Tonks brought her boot heel down on his foot, causing Charlie to yelp in pain, dropping his hold on her. She attempted to dart past him, but he blocked her exit, putting an arm out to keep her from opening the door. "Let me out, you bastard! I swear, I'll hex your balls off if you don't!"
"No! Not till I've had my say!"
"I think all that living alone amongst dragons has driven you completely round the twist."
"I'm only living alone cos you wouldn't go there with me!" Charlie growled.
"Well, pardon me for wanting a career of my own and not wanting to move to the middle of nowhere with fuck-all to do other than cater to you." Her dark eyes were welling with tears. "I don't remember you offering to stay here with me while I went through training either."
"I wanted to work with dragons," he said lamely. "I couldn't do that here—"
"You could've played for England. You could've tried to get a place with the McFustys. You could've done any number of things, but instead you ran off to play with those bloody reptiles who obviously meant more to you than I ever did!" She struck him hard in the chest with the flat of her hand. "So, don't you dare tell me you didn't break my heart, Charlie Weasley. You damn well did and then went swanning off without a care!"
"Swanning off? Have you got even the slightest clue about how damn hard it was to leave you?"
"So hard that you were off bedding the first tart you could get your hands on the minute you got to Romania," Tonks sneered. "I remember your letters, mate. You couldn't wait to rub it in."
Charlie scowled. "That's because you made it perfectly clear you were desperate to have me gone. You were having it off with some berk in your training class, if I remember correctly."
"I wasn't—" she started, then caught herself. "I only told you that to make you jealous. But you didn't care! All you could talk about was Mirela or Miruna or whatever her bloody name was!"
"It was Mihaela and she didn't mean anything!" Charlie threw his hands up in frustration. "None of them ever did. Not like you."
"You've got a funny way of showing it, mate." A tear spilled down her cheek; she wiped it away angrily with the back of her hand. "Don't you dare blame our splitting up on me. I'd have done anything to keep us together."
"Except go away with me when I asked, you mean."
She lowered her eyes, focusing on the toes of her boots. "That's not fair, Charlie." Her voice was plaintive, quavering slightly. "You wouldn't stay when I asked either. I don't know what the hell you're playing at anyway. You don't want me, so why the hell should you care about what I get up to with Kingsley? What's it matter to you?"
"I never said I didn't want you!" he shouted. The back of his neck and his ears were burning with anger. "Not one fucking day has gone by where I haven't wanted you."
Tonks' head jerked up, and she stared at him in disbelief.
"I loved you, Dora, and I never bloody well stopped loving you, and at this point, I don't give a toss if you believe me or not."
"Charlie, why didn't you—?" her words broke off as she choked back a sob. "Why the hell didn't you tell me this before? You...prat!" Tonks smacked him again.
Charlie wasn't quite sure how it happened, but one minute he was fending off her blows, trying to stop her from hitting him again, and the next minute he was holding her close, kissing her fiercely with all the passion he could muster. She gave an initial squeak of objection and a half-hearted attempt to break away before flinging her arms around his neck, her lips clamped on his own.
He had forgotten just how good it felt to kiss her, to hold her, to feel her small, compact body pressed so tightly against his, her pert breasts flush against his chest. His body responded immediately, his cock springing to life, straining painfully against the stiff fabric of his denims. Instinctively, his hands strayed to her bottom, cupping the soft flesh as he pulled her tighter against him.
Tonks made a mewling sound, grinding her hips against Charlie's, and shifted to wedge one leg between his thighs. He gripped her harder, twisting to trap her against the door, their legs tangled together as they clung to each other, kissing and touching and rubbing against one another furiously.
He could hear the muffled footsteps and mingled voices of some of the other Order members out in the hallway, the threat of discovery only making his heart pound faster. He stifled a groan as Tonks buried her face in the crook of his neck and bit down hard, one of her hands snaking between their bodies to stroke him through his jeans.
"Dora," he crooned harshly in her ear, his voice rough with need. "I love you." She silenced him with another searing kiss, her tongue thrusting into his mouth while she fiddled with his zip, somehow managing to get it undone despite their proximity. He hissed in approval as she took his cock in hand and began to stroke, her palm moist and warm as it slid along his length. He began to pump his hips, picking up the careful deliberate rhythm of her strokes. Tonks moaned, undulating against his thigh in response.
Charlie began to tremble, his breathing growing harsher as the pace increased. A few more strokes and he was done in, all control completely gone. He tensed, then spasmed, spilling hard and fast into her hand. He could feel her fingers tightening, milking him as he continued to thrust, his movements finally slowing as he fought to catch his breath.
Tonks relaxed her hold on him, still grinding and rubbing shamelessly. Charlie worked his hand beneath the band of her jeans, seeking out her centre. It was awkward, but somehow he managed to shove his fingers under the elastic of her knickers, finding slick, hot flesh beneath. It only took a few deft flicks of his hand to bring her off, making her moan and cry as she tremoured against him.
They remained standing, propped up against the dining room wall and wrapped around one another in silence. Tonks rested her cheek against his chest; Charlie could feel her still shaking in his arms.
"Did you mean it?" she finally whispered.
"What?"
"That you, you know, love me."
Charlie swallowed hard, nodding slightly. "Yeah. I do."
"I just wish you'd said—" she started. "I didn't think you still felt that way about me."
"Why? Is it that surprising?"
"A bit." There was a brief pause. "I love you too, Charlie. I always have. It never went away either."
Even though he'd been longing to hear her say those words for years, it hurt to hear them now, given the circumstances. Steeling up his courage, he blurted, "Do you love him?"
He heard her sniffle as she snuggled closer to him. "I know."
Charlie pressed his lips to the crown of her head. "I'm sorry."
Tonks raised her head to gaze up at him, her eyes wet with tears. "Nothing to be sorry about mate. I'm glad you told me. I just don't know what to do."
"Neither do I, truth be told," he admitted. "I just know how I feel about you." There were more footsteps in the hall, and he thought he heard his mother's voice. "We should probably go back to the others. They'll wonder where we've been."
"Don't want to face the bloody Spanish Inquisition, do we?" Tonks managed a wan smile as she wriggled out of his arms, starting to smooth out her rumpled clothes. "Look, Charlie, come round my place tomorrow. We'll have a talk, a proper one. Maybe we can sort this all out."
"Maybe," he conceded, trying to straighten out his own clothes. For all too many reasons, he didn't feel very hopeful about finding any real answers.
~*~
Charlie arrived at Tonks's flat early the next evening, uncertain and feeling a little bit sick. He had no idea of what to expect from her tonight; he'd been running assorted scenarios through his mind all damn day, everything from one final knock-down, drag-out row that left them irreparably split, to Tonks having quit her job and demanding to move with him to Romania. None of them seemed very likely.
The one thing he hadn't expected was to be met by the sight of Shacklebolt sitting on Tonks's settee, casually drinking a glass of red wine.
"What's he doing here?" Charlie demanded. "I thought it was you and me sorting this out. Whatever this is."
Tonks blushed to the roots of her bubblegum pink hair. "I had to tell him about us, Charlie. It wasn't fair not to."
Charlie glowered at the other man. "It wasn't fair not to warn me either."
"Calm down, Charlie," Shacklebolt said smoothly, setting down his glass. "I only want to be of assistance. I'm not your enemy. I'm not even your rival."
"You're not?"
Tonks sighed. "Let him tell you what he told me, yeah?"
Shacklebolt cleared his throat before stating," I am very fond of Nymphadora, and I care about her deeply. She's a very lovely woman." He glanced up at Tonks, flashing her a smile. "However, I am not the settling down sort. I'm not very good with long-term commitments, at least not those of an exclusive nature. I'm quite content with my relationship with Tonks the way things are — I'm not looking to change it in any way."
"So, what's that mean exactly?"
"I enjoy her company and I quite enjoy sleeping with her," Shacklebolt said succinctly. "I am not, however, in love with her. Which Tonks tells me you are."
"I am. And she said she loves me." The words came tumbling out, sounding more like a challenge than a statement, but Shacklebolt didn't react.
"What do you want to do about it, Charlie?" Tonks interjected, looking over at him nervously.
"I don't know what you expect me to do about it, Dora. I've got a job in Romania. You've got a job here. You won't go with me and I can't move back here. At least not right now."
"Same old impasse then," she said. "Immovable object, irresistible force."
"Can't live with you, can't live without you."
"Then don't," said Kingsley.
"What do you mean?"
"When you're here, spend time with her, be with her, love her. I won't get in your way."
"And when I'm not?"
Shacklebolt shrugged again, a simple elegant move of his shoulder. "Then she's free to be with whomever she chooses, however she chooses, whether it's myself or someone else. And you're free to do the same in Romania. If you don't mind my throwing out one more worn out cliché: love the one you're with."
Charlie reached out, taking Tonks' hand in his. "And you're all right with this?" he asked. "Is this what you want?"
"When you're not here, Charlie, I miss you so badly it hurts. I've tried to pretend it's okay, but it never is. Not really." She moved closer, putting an arm around his waist. "I'll take whatever I can get from you. And when you're not here, if there's someone to distract me, well, why ever would I say no?"
He drew in a deep breath, exhaling slowly before speaking again. "All right," he said to Shacklebolt, "when I'm not around, you can be with her. Take care of her and make her happy because I can't. But when I'm here, all bets are off, mate. She's mine."
Shacklebolt looked back with a bemused expression. "I can live with that if Nymphadora can. My dear?" he asked, with a cant of his head.
"I-I'd like that." She gave Charlie's hand a squeeze. "But the same is true if I go to visit you in Romania. And...and I want to know about any girl you're seeing. If I don't like her, she's got to go."
"Oi!" he exclaimed, his jaw set stubbornly. "Fine. Right. Then I get final approval on any other blokes. Present company excepted, of course." Charlie had a feeling that there was no way he could force Shacklebolt to go even if he wanted to.
Shacklebolt rose to his feet in one swift, graceful motion. "I think that concludes my involvement in tonight's proceedings." He extended a hand to Charlie. Hesitantly, Charlie accepted it in friendship. "I'm happy it worked out to everyone's satisfaction. Now I think you two need a bit of time alone."
"You sure you don't want to stay, Kingsley?" Tonks said, a sly grin spreading across her face. "You could always watch. I wouldn't mind."
Laughing, Shacklebolt kissed her quickly, then shook his head. "I believe that is a negotiation best left for sometime in the future, my dear. Perhaps some other time."
~*~
Dearest Charlie,
I can't tell you how much miss you, but I really do! I'm counting the days until you're back — it's never soon enough. I'm dead thrilled to hear that you've had some success with your latest breeding program. The photos of the baby fireballs were absolutely lovely and they're so cute! I still don't know what you see in the adult dragons, but the little ones are adorable. You'll tell me more about it all when you're home. I promise I'll let you up for air for at least a little while (though not very long).
Speaking of which, K's taught me a few new tricks. I can't wait to show them to you. You might want to stock up on stamina potions before you leave. I can warn you now, love, you're going to need them.
There's so much to tell you that I can't fit it all in here. I hope we'll get to speak soon. I really miss you.
Until then, know I love you,
xxxx,
your Dora
Slowly, Charlie put the letter down; he thought he could detect a faint hint of Tonks' perfume on the parchment. He was relieved to hear everything was going so well back home. Even with the new arrangements, he couldn't help but worry about Tonks (along with the rest of his family) when he wasn't there. At least he was somewhat assured she was in good hands.
With a flick of his wand, he marked off another day on his calendar; it was only a few short weeks before he could grab a Portkey home. He'd be happy to inform Dumbledore that there had been some progress with their foreign contacts, and then he was going to lock himself away with Dora without interruption, making the most of their short time together. No one would be able to stop him from being with his girl. Not even a crack wizard like Kingsley Shacklebolt.