Sirius closed the door behind the last of the porters and turned to
survey his room at the Leaky Cauldron.

When he'd left it that morning it had been a fairly large room, not
exceptionally luxurious, but comfortable, and with all the expected
amenities. It contained two overstuffed arm chairs, a small desk, two
foot-stools, two bureaus, and a large attached bathroom equipped with an
old-fashioned clawfooted tub which, never-the-less, sported all the
newest attachments.

And, oh, yes. A bed.

A rather nice bed, actually. Quite a good size, and very comfortable.

He'd had such plans for that bed. All of them starring Remus.

Now? Well, the room was still fairly large, all the furniture was still
there, as was the bathroom - for which he'd also had a few plans - but
the bed had disappeared. Not literally, of course, it was still there,
but buried beneath a mountain of packages.

Actually, the armchairs were also full, as were the foot-stools and the
desk, and...

He might, he considered, have overdone it just a bit.

He was fairly certain he'd get a goodly amount of flack from Remus when
he arrived and saw everything. His mate was a frugal soul, by both need
and inclination, and he'd certainly look upon Sirius' purchases with a
jaundiced eye.

What Sirius bought for himself was one thing - Remus felt there wasn't
enough in the world to make up to Sirius for the time he'd spent in
Azkaban ,or for the turmoil of living so long under a cloud. Sirius,
however, had really gone overboard on gifts for his lover.

He knew if he allowed Remus to go any further than the 'jaundiced eye' -
for instance, onto 'ranting, raving and protesting' - he could kiss his
plans for the bed 'good-bye'.

He was going to have to come up with a plan quickly.

The love of his life, his mate, was due to arrive by train at Charing
Cross in fifteen minutes. He'd be here in little more than half an hour.

Simple. No sweat.

Call a maid.

She could handle it.

Powerful wizard he might be, Chief Auror for the International
Confederation of Wizards, but not everything could be solved by waving a
wand and mumbling words. Magic had to be channeled by a mind, and his
was, unfortunately, at this particular moment, muddled.

He opened the door and did what any self-respecting mighty wizard would
do when muddled. He yelled.

"Maid!"

Fifteen minutes later things were under control, mostly thanks to Netty,
the maid. He shook his head in amazement. He'd have to recommend her to
the MOM. What she couldn't organize with her wand, quickly and
efficiently, couldn't be done.

Her advice on marital relations wasn't bad either. Sort of supplemented
his own ideas, as a matter of fact.

She'd taken one look at the room, comprehended the problem and come up
with a solution all before he could say a word.

A small woman of indeterminate years, she had a shock of busy dark brown
hair dressed in a bun, strong facial features, lively brown eyes, and a
kind expression. She'd reassured him merely with her presence.

"Ah, Mr. Black. You need help, you do." She waved her hand toward his
purchases. "Putting things away, or perhaps getting them out of sight
before your Mr. Lupin arrives from the station?" She smiled at him,
encouraging his response.

How did she know? Didn't matter. Just get it done, before his life fell
apart. He'd had plans for the evening. He hoped he still did.

" And you'll need help getting everything ready. Perhaps room service
for later? With a nice warming spell to keep it hot just in case?"

How did she do that?

She'd rented him the adjoining room and they'd moved most everything in
there. A menu had been discussed and ordered, the timing of its various
deliveries settled. The bath had been readied, spells set to keep the
water at the correct temperature, various oils and salts set out, tubes
of essential items discretely tucked away.

Several packages had been opened and the contents set out. Others had
been hidden away for a particular moment.

The bed had been remade with fine sheets and a new comforter. The
curtains had been drawn, candles lit.

The change in ambience was incredible. What had been a perfectly fine
and functional bedroom had become a setting for a seduction. All in all
he was quite pleased with himself and his day.

It was all in the presentation, he decided. Presentation was everything.

Yes! He still had what it took. He was the master!

He went to get himself ready.

Remus didn't stand a chance.

Remus stepped through the door of the Leaky Cauldron and looked around
anxiously. Sirius had said he'd meet him near the front desk, so where
was he? All he could see were a few MOM clerk types, two families with
small children, and what looked like Madame Dupres' summer foreign
exchange group. There was a young couple off in a corner who, based on
the shiny new rings, and their total absorption in each other, were most
likely on their honeymoon.

Honeymoon. Vacation. Whatever. He sighed. If he'd had one, he didn't
remember it. Sirius, Albus, and Madame Pomfrey had explained, very
carefully, many of the things that still confused him, but there was
a gaping hole no one had been able to fill. All in all, he was missing
five years of his life. Even with the information they'd given him,
things got confused - because it really was information, not memories.

He knew in his heart he was bound to Sirius, forever, but he truly longed to
remember its reality. He could recite the facts he'd been given, at first he had done so
daily. For years the facts  were all he'd had, and he'd clung to them tenaciously.

He knew Albus had hand fasted them a year after he left Hogwarts for good.
He knew that a year later he'd had some kind of accident, and that the trauma of
losing James and Lily and Peter, combined with the supposed betrayal of
Sirius, had wiped five years from his memory.

He'd lost his entire last year at Hogwarts. That was the year he turned
18 and the Ministry finally allowed him to leave Albus' guardianship,
three years after he and his friends had graduated. All of that year was gone,
even though, on some level, he was able to access his studies, as he'd proved
several times in tight situations. That was the year, he supposed, he'd
first gotten together with Sirius. Finally at the age of consent, Albus
would have let him see Sirius, ah, seriously. He grinned at his poor joke.

The year after that must have been their courtship, then the first year
of their marriage, and then the two years following. All of it gone from
his memory.

Albus had told him he'd been violently ill and unresponsive for a very
long time, that he'd actually vanished for a period of time.

All he could remember was doing research for his advanced studies in the
Hogwarts library, wondering if James and Sirius would be able to get
back for the full moon as they'd planned, and then he was waking up in
his bed at the farm with Albus Dumbledore looking down at him, a worried
expression on his face.

Well. It looked as though not only was there no Sirius to meet him, but
there was no one at the front desk. By the sounds of the school group,
however, that might change momentarily. With Madame Dupres off somewhere,
the group seemed to have decided to play a mini quidditch match with
their left over food. He couldn't see that going on for long.

Ah, yes. He was right, but the champion of justice was Madame Dupres,
not the concierge.

Ow. He was very glad he wasn't one of her students.

He'd have to be careful, of course, not to overstay the dates he'd given
the Ministry, or to deviate from the itinerary. A hero of the War he
might be, but he was still a werewolf, and the rules still applied. That
was fine. He could stick to plans.

Looking around for an empty chair, he realized the only one available
would take him too close to the foreign exchange students, so he stayed
where he was. Surely someone would be along shortly? Perhaps Sirius had
left a note?

He'd been so looking forward to this trip. He'd envisioned it as a chance
to get away with Sirius on a, well, admit it, he'd seen it as a sort of mini
honeymoon. Hotel rooms and long weekends had been few and far between for him.

Tell the truth, Remus. He'd never been in a real hotel room. An inn a
few times, with Sirius, during the war, but never a hotel room, and
never without something hanging ominously over their heads. This would
be a first.

If Sirius ever showed up.

They'd planned the trip two weeks ago. Sirius had needed to go up to the
Ministry to arrange his new credentials. He had a few almost illegal things
he wanted to pick up for his job that he could only obtain in nameless
places somewhere in London, and he had a need to replenish his wardrobe.

Remus smiled. Unlike himself, his lover was a peacock. He came from an
old wizarding family, complete with old money. The Firebolt he'd bought
Harry hadn't set him back a bit, and was just like his extravagant lover.

No, that was unfair. Sirius wasn't extravagant, he simply liked the finer
things. He said they held up better, and lasted longer. That they looked
and felt better was just an added bonus.

Right.
He had to admit, Sirius had always tried to be generous with him, he just
hadn't been able to accept it when he was a student.

He had no idea of the dynamics of their relationship now, though. He
couldn't remember what it had been like earlier in their marriage, but there
was nothing at the farm to indicate any great expenditures. The only
thing either of them had, that he could not remember or identify, were
their wedding bands. He'd thought Sirius must have bought them, but
Albus had told him that they were from his family.

Where was Sirius?

He squinted his eyes to get a clearer look at the clock over the front
desk. Hunh. He was actually early, by about 5 minutes. Would wonders
never cease?

Sirius' appointment with the Ministry had coincided with the date his
doctoral advisor from the Institute of Applied Magic had given him for a
final review before his defense. Dr. Imbri, on vacation, had offered to
come to farm, an unheard of gesture, and he hadn't felt he could change
the date. Otherwise, he would have come up to town with Sirius.

Sirius had been disappointed, but he'd gotten over it, quickly. Within
seconds, he'd gotten a look on his face that, in the past, Remus knew meant
mischief of the first order. When Remus asked him what he was up to, he'd
simply answered "a surprise" and mentioned that he might stop off at Hogwarts.

The memory of that look warmed him now. Some of his favorite times with
Sirius had come after Sirius got 'that look'.

He'd been hoping to cause a few 'looks' on Sirius' face tonight, himself. It
would help, of course, if Sirius' face, and the rest of his body, would
show up.

He sighed. They had  fifteen years or so of lost time to make up. Every
minute counted.

He grinned. It was a good thing wizards aged so slowly and lived so
long. There were a lot of things he intended to experience.

With Sirius.

A lot of them involved a bed, and very few clothes.

All right. No clothes.

A short maid with sparkly brown eyes chose that moment to come up to
him, startling him out of his, er, thoughts.

It was a good thing he was holding his cloak in front of  himself. His
imagination could be...very creative.

"Would you be Remus Lupin, sir?"

Remus nodded.

"Yes. How did you know?"

She beamed. There was no other word for it.

"Well, sir. Mr. Black has been in a panic expecting you. I've just come
from helping him with the room. He's off 'getting ready' for you, he
says, and he asked me to keep an eye out for you. He says he promised to
meet you down here, and didn't want you to worry if he was late."

"I see. I think. But, however did you know I was me? There are surely..."

"How'd I know you were you? I probably shouldn't tell you his secrets,
but here's what he said.
 

'He'll be carrying his father's bag, a beaten up old thing, but it'precious to him. It will have his name on it, in faded gold letters -Remus J. Lupin. He'll be wearing shabby traveling robes, but he'll wearthem like a king. He has a shaggy mane of gray and golden brown hair,and the most beautiful hazel eyes you'll ever see.

And he's mine.'

Her eyes twinkled as she grinned at him. He couldn't help but smile back
at her, though he couldn't hold back a groan at the Daily Prophet
mention, either. Life had become quite interesting since the end of the
war. His, and Sirius', roles in the War against Voldemort had somehow
gotten out and become public knowledge. They had gone from being pariahs
- the convict and the werewolf - to being public heroes. Thankfully, he
normally lived a somewhat isolated life at the farm. That might change, of
course, when he got his doctorate, but he was quite thankful for the
lifestyle at present.

"So, sir, if you'll be following me, I'll show you to your room."

He nodded, then grinned again, as he picked up his bag and prepared to
follow her through the maze of customers, tables and chairs. "It's not
fair, though, for you to know my name, and me not know yours. How will I
know who to thank?"

"You're wanting my name?" she asked over her shoulder, escorting him out
of the common room and into the hall leading to the guest room stairs.

"Yes," he answered, following her and maneuvering his bag carefully past
a customer taking up more than his fair share of space.

"It's Nettie, sir. Clytemnestra, actually, but me mum couldn't be
calling me that every time she needed me, could she? And I do hate Clytie.
Careful on those steps, sir. They've just been polished, so they might
be slippery."

He had no intention of falling and injuring himself. The closer he got
to Sirius, the more he felt he couldn't wait to get his arms, and other
things, around his mate.

"Thank you Nettie. They are slippery, but not too bad. I'm sure I can manage."

He followed her up the broad stairs noting with interest the signed
photos of famous wizards and witches hung on the stairway wall, most of
them waving and smiling. He hoped Nettie didn't ask him for one, but
considering the behavior of some of the people he'd encountered on the
train on his way up, he wasn't sure. He might as well find out now,
maybe Sirius could come up with a way out it.

"Interesting gallery you have here."

"Yes, sir. It is. Lots of interesting people stay here. It's convenient,
as I dare say you know. Diagon Alley and the Ministry being so close and
all. Lots of Ministry people stay here, but my favorites are the
quidditch players. So much life to them, you know. That nice Mr. Bagman,
his picture's right around the corner here. He doesn't tip all that
well, but he's retired, of course, from the Ministry, and likely not as
well off as he was."

Remus clamped down on his thoughts, and pressed his lips together.  'Nice
Mr. Bagman', indeed. If she only knew. Retirement, my ...

She stopped in front of room 307. "Well, here we are, sir. Mr. Black
said he'd be waiting. Enjoy your stay. If you want anything, just ring
the bell. A house elf will be right along."

She smiled again and, bowing, left him standing hesitating in front of
the door.

Suddenly as unsure and apprehensive as he'd been at seventeen, Remus
gripped the door knob and opened the door.

Sirius looked up as the door opened. He heard the footsteps in the
hallway and the low murmur of voices, followed by footsteps again as one
person stayed and one left. Knowing it must be Remus, he'd taken one
last look at himself, glanced around at his preparations and gone to
meet his mate.

He'd made it to the middle of the room before the door opened and Remus
stepped through.

Yes, it was his Remus. Tired and dirty and shabby, lugging his beloved
old bag with him , and looking exactly as he'd told Nettie he would -
like a king in disguise, carrying himself with unconscious grace and dignity.

The years had been hard on his lover. They'd taken a harsh toll, though
he still looked absurdly young. The bare bones of him, though, were
beautiful in a way mere youth could never be and would be with him all
his life. In old age Remus would still be beautiful.

Not that his lover looked at all old now, just tired and worn. The full
moon was only a few days past. No matter what their circumstances, no
matter how healthy Remus was otherwise, the full moon would always
affect him profoundly. Still, they were both quite young, in wizarding terms.

For a race that lived routinely to 150, thirty was nearly childhood.
Many wizards, in peaceful times, put off marriage or starting a family
until they were in their eighties, wishing to be settled first. It was
only in the the unsettled Dark Times, like the ones just past, that
wizards took to marrying so young, barely out of their teens, with the
full encouragement of the wizarding community. So many wizards had died,
the wizard population had been in very real danger. Thankfully, with the
resources of advanced magic, same-sex marriages, traditionally accepted,
retained their approved status. Gender was no barrier to the need to
supply children to the population, and therefore no threat to anyone.

He'd been appalled to realized from friends at school that the Muggle
world saw things quite differently. He could understand the attitude of
his world toward Remus as a wizarding werewolf. They didn't know his
Remus, and werewolves really were dangerous. But the attitude the
Muggles held toward same sex couples...no, he couldn't understand it.
Love was love, wasn't it?

So, early marriage and early parenting had been the norm for his group
growing up. James and Lily, the Weasely's, the Longbottom's, the Bones.
He and Renata...Remus...

They'd all married, and produced offspring - Harry, Arthur's clan,
Neville, Susan, Amanda...

He shook his head, pushing the last thought away. Now was not the time
for that story. Albus and Madame Pomfrey were certain of that. They
weren't sure Remus would ever be ready, no matter how much he wanted to
be, to hear about those 'lost' years.

Remus was looking at him questioningly. This was not the way he'd
intended to greet his love. Time to go into 'meet and greet' mode before
Remus caught on and they slid rather too quickly into 'where did..., but
how..." and bypassed "I missed you..." and kisses altogether. Remus, he
thought ruefully, could be just a bit too insistent on details.

Arms open, his mind returning to his plans for the big bed, Sirius
walked toward his lover.

The curtains were drawn, though it was still only late afternoon, giving
the room an intimate air. Several tall candles were lit, giving off a
soft glow and adding to the feeling of intimacy. He'd noticed that the
sounds from the hallway had abruptly cut off when he'd closed the door,
so someone must have triggered a privacy spell.His galleons were on Nettie.

Flowers were everywhere; red roses, yellow roses, carnations of every
hue. A huge basket of light pink and dark fuschia peonies sat on the
table between the windows. The fragrance was - quite nice, actually.
Somehow neither the sight nor the scent was overpowering or too feminine.
A nice touch.

Covered glass and silver dishes sat on a small table placed before the
fireplace, most likely bespelled to stay at the correct temperature. A
bottle of something was immersed in an ice bucket nearby.

The barest thread of...good heavens! Chamber music? ...could be heard,
though where it came from, or how Sirius had managed it, he had no idea.

The room was done in shades of green, brown and gold; its' furniture
made of golden oak, polished to a high sheen. All in all, it was a
quietly masculine room, comfortably luxurious, unostentatious, and
completely Sirius.

Well. He looked back at Sirius who was about to enfold him in his arms.
Two could play this very interesting game. He had, after all, had some
plans of his own.

Honeymoon, indeed. Trust his lover to know him so well. It was just like
Sirius to attempt give him what he he'd secretly desired.

He melted into his lover's embrace, arms coming up to grasp Sirius'
shoulders and initiated a kiss.

A 'you're not fooling me for one instant, but I've missed you way too
much to care right now, let's get on with this seduction' kiss.

An 'I adore you, there's a lovely tub of water steaming away in the
bathroom, what are we waiting for, let's get naked, and yes, your
tonsils are right where I left them the day before yesterday' kiss.

Quite suddenly the bedroom was empty, only a pile of clothes left behind
to show anyone had been there.

Wrenching his mouth, with effort, from Sirius', Remus pulled back the
slightest bit from his lover's embrace. He was drowning, not in water,
but in scent and touch.  His system, still overly sensitive only three
days past its most recent 'change', was threatening to overload.

Steam from the large old tub billowing about them, Remus stood, tucked
tightly against Sirius' body, within the circle of Sirius' arms. He was
happy, content, and in the first stages of arousal.

Scent.

The barest hint of the flowers from the bedroom, some sort
of...essential oil? drifting up from the tub, and the glorious unadorned
signature of Sirius himself - clean and strong and spicy in a way he had
no words to describe - combining and separating, teasing his nostrils,
sending odd little shocks to his system that alternately soothed and
excited him.

Touch.

Smooth, smooth skin, somehow still (thank the Healer's magic)
unblemished, despite the years spent fighting the dark. Beloved flesh
overlaying toned and corded muscle. No bulk here, just trained strength
and long, strong bones.

Remus lifted his hands to his lover's face, tenderly tracing the shape
of his jaw, the curve of his cheekbones, the proud nose. He ran his
hands through the unbound hair, exulting in its silky texture.

His Sirius was handsome, handsome and beautiful; strong beyond the physical.

And his. All his.

His love was well, now. Finally. He'd thought for the longest time
Sirius would never recover from his years of imprisonment. His mate had
improved, slowly. Some things, like his teeth, came quickly. A trim and
a healthy diet had restored his hair. His body had been a different story.

Near starvation and total lack of exercise over a prolonged period of
time, combined with the Dementor's emotional torture had been very hard
to overcome. It hadn't helped at all that Sirius had pushed his body far
beyond it's limits in the war. His had been an integral part in the long
battle against Voldemort. Whatever reserves he'd managed to build up
were far too quickly depleted. Only now, two years into the new peace,
was Sirius fully recovered - or as recovered as he would be. Some things
would take time.

The scars that were not on his lover's body were there, but on the
inside. It would take long and patient loving to erase them, but that
was his job, his privilege.

Sirius, impatient as always, leaned forward and a little lower. Lips
close to Remus' ear, he whispered.

Remus smiled in reaction to the whisper and rested his head against
Sirius' neck. His lover did have some good ideas, but this was quite
nice, as well. He enjoyed leaning against his lover, half aroused and
anticipatory. He doubted his hands would ever have enough of touching
Sirius, they had been empty of him for far too long to ever again be satisfied.

"Remus..."

Ohhh! Sirius was getting that warning tone in his voice. Growling
couldn't be far behind, and then...

Sirius hands suddenly changed positions. Remus felt himself being
lifted. There was a momentary feeling of being airborne, then he was
plunging into the tub and submerging.

Fighting a slight feeling of disorientation and panic, Remus sat up,
grabbing for the edges of the ornate old tub, and clutching them for all
he was worth. With outraged canine dignity, he glared are his - beloved?
Lover? Mate? Next meal? He shook his head, spattering water back into
the tub, and pushed his streaming hair out of his face. Had he only
known it, he was at that moment every bit the image of one of his far
distant ancestors.

There were times when the disparate natures of Remus eclectic heritage
clashed. There were times when they meshed perfectly.

This was one of them.

The human was shocked at his lover's treatment. The wizard noted the
handy containment spell someone had placed on the tub. The werewolf
wanted revenge. The wolf wanted his lover.

Now.

The elf took charge and set priorities.

Remus, smiling, ah, wolfishly, sat back languidly and reached out a hand
to his lover.

Sirius eyed his lover warily, almost regretting his impetuous move.
Laughter and play had always been a part of their lovemaking, but there
had been times when he'd misread the moment. Remus had many facets to
his personality, and you could never be sure which would be uppermost at
any given moment. Where most people saw a slight,  sometimes frail
looking man, often tired and ill, a reserved and quiet scholar, Sirius
knew Remus as a strong, fierce warrior, a dignified man of incredible
self control, mercurial moods, and an impish sense of humor.

He could only hope that sense of humor was uppermost right now, or that
bed was going to be quite cold.

Oh. Oh, my.

The first time he'd seen that look had been just after his acquittal
order came down.

Neither one of them had been able to walk comfortably for, well, days.

Caught off guard by steel strong fingers, Sirius found himself jerked
off his feet and into the tub, his lover's arms around him, and spitting water.

Cold water is good on a warm day. Cold ale or butterbeer is better. Hot
water is - yuck.

One hand pushing hair out of his eyes, the other encountering an
interesting bit of Remus' anatomy, Sirius rolled himself over to rest
beside his lover.

Noticing Remus' eyebrows raising in question, Sirius bit. Figuratively,
of course.

"What?"

Remus merely waved a hand around, mutely.

"The tub?"

The mute one nodded.

"Nettie activated the honeymoon fixture. It ah,..."

The eyebrows again, with an added look of interest. The waving hand had
wandered over to duplicate on Sirius' body the maneuvers Sirius'
submerged hand was playing out on Remus.

This was intended to be a game for two, after all.

"It , it keeps the water level constant and hot, keeps the overflow
inside the tub, and, ummm, adjusts the size of the tub to, ah..."

Now both of Remus' hands were busy with underwater actions, sliding over and
under, up...

"...to whatever activities are..."

and down, grasping...

"...going on at..."

pumping...

Sirius growled, rolled back over to cover Remus' body with his own,
grasped Remus' head with both hands, slanted his mouth and sealed his
lips to Remus'.

Two bodies sank below the surface of the water.

This was his seduction, by Godric, and he was taking it back.

The operative word, though, was 'had'.

Sirius had evidently decided to push things along.

After nearly drowning him with a kiss, Sirius had decidedly taken back charge of the moment. Remus had been touched and fondled  - everywhere. His muscles had been stroked and rubbed. Every inch of him had been washed tenderly. Sirius had even gently massaged Remus' scalp as he washed his hair, supporting him as he rinsed it with clear warm water.

Remus had been surprised at how good it felt, at how the gentle, tender touches remained with him, phantom comforts, stoking the slowing rising fires of desire, fires that had been banked, but were now simmering, waiting for the proper time to erupt.

Sirius had rinsed both their bodies in fresh water, then clambered out of the tub, telling Remus to relax, he'd be right back. Drying  off, but not bothering to cover himself, he'd padded out to the bedroom leaving only damp footprints behind.

Remus had watch him from behind hooded eyes until he'd disappeared from sight, silently giving thanks to anyone who cared to listen for the gift of Sirius' love and presence in his life.

Hasty and sometimes thoughtless, quick to act and capable of holding a grudge long past its relevance, his Sirius was strong and loving, loyal and tender. His generosity was unstinting. He was everything Remus had ever wanted, and all he ever hoped for. If he could have Sirius' love for the rest of his life, he would die a happy and contented man. Whatever hope of a happy afterlife was offered Dark Creatures, he would happily forego if he could have that wish fulfilled.

Remus closed his eyes and rested, a happy, contented expression on his face.

This was Sirius seduction. He'd give in, now, and let Sirius lead. It was always interesting, and always satisfying, to allow Sirius to have his way.

Besides - it put him in a better 'position', hmmmm, to find out what else Sirius was attempting to put over on him.

He wasn't married to the man without knowing his ways. There was a lot more to this than mutual pleasure, or granting Remus' desire for a 'honeymoon' weekend. Right now his lover was wavering between equal parts of loving desire and the non- sexual excitement of running a scam. It was time to stop pushing and let him get on with it. It should be a hell of a ... ride.

Sirius came back into the bathroom carrying a silver tray which he sat down on a shelf built into the wall. Obviously a part of the 'honeymoon' features of the room, it was out of the way, but close enough, and at the right height, for people to reach without discomfort while in the tub.

He'd put crackers, cheese, and a few slices of melon on the tray along with two goblets of wine.

He wanted the two of them to relax together before going on to the next step, food. Finger food would be relaxing, and fun, and would mean they didn't have to concentrate completely on their meal when it was time.

Remus needed the meal, he knew. He could tell Remus had had a few hard days without him. The full moon, endured without the benefit of the Wolfsbane Potion had resulted in all of the old, familiar injuries, and lingering aches and pains of the change.

He simply didn't want their meal to be *all* about feeding a need. Properly executed, the consumption of a meal could lead to much more. He was working very hard for the 'much more'.

Remus had been exhausted when he'd arrived. Mind and body strung tight from the full moon, his doctoral advisor's visit, and the trip up to town by himself. He'd known this would happen, so he'd enticed, played with, and relaxed his mate physically. He'd let his Remus come to the realization that there just might be more going on than he'd thought, and refreshed his mind in so doing.

Things were coming along quite nicely.

Sirius stepped into the tub, watching as his lover's eyes opened. Kneeling in the pleasantly warm water, he nudged Remus aside, then slipped behind him. He loved this, the feel of his lover in his arms. Remus' head fit into the hollow of his shoulder, perfectly. He wrapped his arms around his lover's lithe body, surrounding him and supporting him between his up raised knees.

This was good. Desire, and the fulfillment of that desire was an incredible feeling. The ache was just beginning, deep inside, and he planned on satisfying it, but this was good, too; a needed respite on the journey.

A little rest, a little talk, a little food.

Then love.

Not that this wasn't love, too, but 'sex' wasn't what he had planned for the night.

Sex was great. Sex was wonderful. Remus was an incredibly responsive and giving lover. He didn't think, after the deprivation of Azkaban, that he would ever have enough of it.

But if he *had* to choose?

He'd choose the slow nights of what he called 'loving', when the connection was stronger than the sensation. The nights of lying in bed, wrapped around each other, holding each other. The nights he'd run with the wolf as Padfoot, or laid curled up around him just before the morning change. The few times he'd been in the field during the war, one or the other of them wounded, holding each other against the dawn and danger from the dark.

He'd choose it every time.

He looked down at Remus lying in his arms, head on his shoulder. He loved the long silky hair, gray and all. He would love it when it was totally silver. He loved the fine boned face, the golden eyes. The curve of cheek and jaw. He lifted a hand and traced the slender neck, the collarbones. All of this was part of Remus, all of it *his*.

He smiled when Remus and looked up at him. Their connection was working just fine.

Reaching out to the tray, he picked up a cracker topped with slice of cheese.

"Hey, love. Open up. Take a bite.

Remus opened his mouth, accepted the treat, chewed and swallowed, all without taking his eyes off of Sirius.

"Mmm. I didn't know I was hungry. That was good. Is there more?"

Happy with the way his plan was working out Sirius fed him more crackers and cheese, interspersed with sips of wine and slices of fruit.

By the time Sirius was done hand feeding Remus he knew his lover was relaxed enough to go on to the next stage - some conversation, some good music, a fine meal, snuggling in front of the fire - and the first step into potential trouble.

Remus might now be relaxed, comfortable and pliant, but his lover could sense a 'con' many miles away. His best bet was to be up front and truthful. Well, partially truthful.

Sirius maneuvered them around until they could both stand, then he assisted his lover from the tub. Using warm fluffy towels he'd purchased for the occasion - hotel towels simply weren't up to his seduction standard - he first dried Remus, wrapping him in a huge, warm bath sheet he'd also purchased for the occasion - Remus really didn't need to know that, though - then dried himself.Foregoing a bath sheet for himself and ignoring the questioning look from his lover, he turned and reached behind the door For his first - confess able - foray into the 'gift zone'.

When he turned around his hands were full of silk. Heavy, rippling, flowing, Chinese silk.

He'd seen the dressing gowns in the window of Baylor and Lords (Fine Clothing for the Discriminating Wizard). He'd been looking for himself, actually, since he needed everything. The silver-lined black silk had caught his eye. He knew he looked good in black. Remus, and be honest, others, had told him many times. Just behind it, however, was a mannequin wearing the same robe in gold-lined  forest green. It screamed 'Remus' at him. He'd gone into the store and purchased both dressing gowns. He hadn't stopped there, however. He'd suddenly realized that with his finances finally straightened out, he could easily afford a new wardrobe for his mate. Not just the graduation gifts he'd planned, but all of the ordinary everyday things he *knew* Remus had never had, not even in the early days of their marriage. That time had been about being together, not *things*.

With Renata...well, he'd realized by then what he had lost with Remus. He hadn't made the same mistakes. He'd created a home with her, something to build on, to endure. It hadn't, but that had not been their fault.

And now he had a second chance with Remus. He wanted to show Remus, in every way possible, just how much he valued him and their life together. He'd shown him with his body, his mind, with the time he spent with him, much as he had the first time. Now he wanted to build their home and nurture their needs. Somehow this one robe was a symbol of all that to him. If Remus accepted it...

Well, they could go on to the next step. If not...

Well, he just didn't know.

Remus stood with his feet firmly planted on the tiled bathroom floor, warmly wrapped in the bath sheet Sirius had placed around him.

He felt refreshed; refreshed and eager for whatever came next. His eyes wandered over his lover's back, approving the of the way they flexed and relaxed along his back and flank. Allowing his gaze to wandered upward, over the broad shoulders and strong neck, he found himself caught by Sirius' eyes when his lover turned around.

He never noticed the robe in Sirius' hands; he was far more interested in Sirius.

Sirius lowered his gaze to his hands, breaking his old on Remus' eyes. It was a mutual hold, he realized, but a hold none the less., and one which threatened to reignite the fires he was keeping banked. The sight of the moss green robe helped to clear his mind and set him back on track.

Smiling widely, he held it up by its shoulders, the heavy silk falling gracefully into deeply shimmering folds. In the candle light it looked exactly what it was - an extremely expensive, finely made men's robe; masculine, sensual, and beautiful. He watched as Remus gaze also fell to his hands, and felt a slight thrill of victory when Remus eyes widened in appreciation and question.

"For you, love. I couldn't resist."

He quickly forestalled the objection he saw forming on Remus' lips.

"It reminded me of you. The green and the gold. Of your eyes. Think of it as a...delayed honeymoon gift."

Remus' eyes brightened with emotion, his whole body seemed to melt and flow toward Sirius. At the word 'gift', however, he stiffened, beginning to withdraw.

Ah, ah, ah - here we go. We've skipped over 'jaundiced eye' *and* 'raving and ranting' straight to 'complete refusal'.

Sirius leaned forward just enough to touch Remus' lips with his own. Slanting his mouth and increasing the pressure, he allowed his tongue to request entrance to his lover. When Remus opened his mouth to admit him, he employed every bit of skill, finesse, and knowledge he possessed to return Remus to the pliant lever he had been moments before.

Knowing full well he was in no way actually manipulating his lover, Sirius continued his assault on Remus' mouth until he heard a low-voiced moan.

He drew back just enough to whisper roughly. "Drop the towel, Remus, and hold out your arms."

Remus obeyed. Eyes still closed, he opened his hands allowing the towel to fall, its folds gathering about his feet. He raised his arms, holding them out to his sides as a child would, only then opening his eyes.

Sirius caught his breath. Far from looking a child, Remus resembled nothing so much as one of the wild wanton spirits said to inhabit his Broceliande Forest. Shoulder length hair burnished gold by candle light, silver streaks enhancing its beauty, rather than detracting from it was brushed behind slightly tapering ears. Large, wide, passion-glazed eyes seemed to fill the light-gilded, fine-boned face. The body was held open to his gaze, nothing hidden. The long bones, covered over by a runners' muscles, sculpted by genetics and a curse, but beautiful, no matter the source.

Remus had left himself open and vulnerable to Sirius, surrendered to his lover in an act of will and love.

He knew his Remus. From the tips of his elegant ears to the bottom of his conflicted soul. He'd had long years in Azkaban to dwell on his personal stupidity toward his lover.

Peter Pettigrew had much to answer for to him; he'd hurt him more than anyone else ever had, more than Voldemort, because only a friend can betray a friend - enemies have nothing to lose. Not only had Peter admitted his complicity in James and Lily's deaths, he'd boasted to Sirius the whole story of his campaign to discredit Remus in Sirius' sight.

Voldemort and his inner circle had wanted Remus. They'd known that Remus was untouchable at Pont du Lac Farm. As long as he was close to Sirius, and he never left the farm without Sirius, he would be very hard to capture. They'd settled for discrediting him, hoping to break the two apart.

Peter had told him the whole story; how he'd poured the lies about Severus Snape and Remus into Sirius' ears. How Remus had been abducted, and how he, Peter had made it look as if Remus had simply left Sirius. How he'd left the note behind, and Remus' ring.

He'd told Sirius the truth about Renata, who she really was, why she'd been allowed to  marry him once she'd escaped. Where she was.

He told him about Voldemort's plans for Amanda. Why she'd been allowed to be born.

About Voldemort's ultimate plans for Remus, and how powerless Sirius would be to stop it from happening.

Sirius had sworn in Azkaban that if he was ever allowed to have Remus again, he would not be content with only his lover's body and his surface personality, the way he had been. The desire was the difference between a callow, if sincerely loving boy, and the mature man, well acquainted with suffering. He would, he swore, know him intimately, in every way. He would learn to cherish.

And so he had.

In the years since his return they'd grown closer, and more in love, than he could have imagined. They'd worked and interacted as necessary with the outside world, and in their private one, they'd talked and laughed, cried and held each other as they shook their way through the emotional storms caused by their separation.

They knew each other. No matter the years apart. No matter the holes in Remus memory. No matter the secrets Sirius held back from damaging Remus. They knew each other.

Sirius knew that Remus was aware to his 'scam'. Remus had been with him every step of the way in the game. Every step had been designed to show Remus how loved he was, while allowing outside fatigues and concerns to fall away until all that was left was their acknowledgement of what they were to each other.

Everything. Absolutely everything.

He'd simply need to create an atmosphere which would allow Remus to remember that fundamental truth, They were sufficient in themselves for each other. He'd given Remus time to remember that gifts were only tangible reminders of their love, not a way of keeping score, not a reminder of who had what and who did no, that the real gift of their lives was their love for each other.

It had worked.

His lover stood before him, not in submission, but in acceptance.

Sirius reached out, gently drawing the robe up over Remus arms and shoulders, pulling it closed, and belting it. He pulled Remus to him, whispering, "Thank you, love."

Remus nodded, acknowledging the truth to Sirius, melting against him.

Arms around his lover, he simply held Remus for several long moments, savoring the feel of him, allowing the banked fires to burn a littler higher, a little brighter.

After a while he felt lips twitch against his neck, and a faintly amused voice spoke.

"All right, my peacock. I love it.  love you. Now where's yours?"

Sirius smiled. "Me? A peacock? Now why would you think I'd get one of these for me?"

He was answered with and ungainly snort and arms that tightened around his waist.

"I *know* you love. It's the kind of thing you wear. You've got one, and I'm wagering it's in black, *Black* black."

"Oh, really?" He tightened his own hold.

"Yes, really." And I'm quite sure the robes are only the beginning. This whole thing," he removed one arm from Sirius' waist sweeping it out to the side to indicate the bedroom, the tub, the robe, "this whole set-up - you wouldn't have wasted on just a robe. There's more to it."

"Wasted?" Sirius mock-growled. "I couldn't have done," he, too, swept an arm out to indicated the scene, "all this, just because I love you?".

"No." Certainty.

"No?" Incredulity.

"No." Finality. And another snort.

A Pause for thought. "You're right. But it was worth it."

Another snort. "You think so?"

"I think so." Certainty.

"All right, then." Satisfaction.

They stood for a few more minutes, absorbing the essence of each other, the security of being together.

"So" Remus.

"So?" Sirius.

"What's the next step?" Remus.

"The next step?" Sirius.

"In my 'softening up'." Remus.

"Ah. The 'softening up'. I was going to ply you with Beef Bourginon, Chopin, roses, and me."

"Really?"

"Really."

"And then to bed?"

"Bed?"

Again the snort, again accompanied by a tightening of Remus' arms around Sirius' waist.

"Yes, bed." Certainty.

"You think I've been trying to manipulate you into bed?" Trying, and failing, to keep amusement out of his voice.

Remus raised his head from its resting place on Sirius shoulder and removed his arms from his lover's waist to place them on either side of Sirius face, looking him directly in the eyes.

"I think you've been giving me space and time to rid myself of the last few days without you. I think you've been trying to give me the honeymoon weekend you know I've been hoping for. I think you're preparing me for a bigger windfall than this admittedly wonderful robe, no matter how beautiful it is. I think you've been trying to remind me that you love me, and there is no question of 'give and take' between us."

"I think," and Remus brought his mouth close enough to Sirius' mouth that he could feel the words form before they were spoken, "I think," he repeated, "I want to skip the beef, and the wine, and the music. I want to let your oh, so clever spells take care of them until later." Remus got an impossible bit closer, "I want," he kissed his lover, "us to go to bed." Another kiss. "I think we need," a savoring of lips, "to review," and another kiss was shared, " this whole 'give and take thing'."

Banked fires bursting into flame, they did.

Sirius awoke several hours later in a tumble of bed clothes, Remus, limp and sated, wrapped securely in his arms.

Very, very rarely did he ever wake up after Remus, or wrapped up in Remus' arms. It was one of the lingering effects of his incarceration in Azkaban, the preternatural wakefulness, the inability to be held. A control issue, he knew; the need to be aware and in charge of his environment at all times.

Thankfully, Remus had no problem with playing the part of a security pillow, and happily allowed Sirius to clutch him to his heart's content. Remus also had no problem with waking up to find Sirius gazing at him lustfully, or to an already warm house with the smell of breakfast cooking.

There were other issues, of course. For a long time after Sirius' return and their reunion, they'd had to leave a night light burning.Sirius had learned to hate the dark - until Remus gave it back to him one glorious, star-filled night in Broceliande Forest.

Far more troubling to him, though not to Remus, was their sex life. During the year of their first hand fasting, they'd enjoyed a full and joyous range of activities. Nothing had been barred. Specifically, they'd both enjoyed taking, and being taken.

Though Sirius had not been raped in Azkaban, he *had* been molested. As a result, he had a very real need to be in control of who touched him, and how, and when. Only once since his return had he let Remus inside of him, the morning after his acquittal hearing. He hadn't been able to repeat it, enjoyable as it had been. He knew all the arguments about 'control from the bottom', it just didn't work for him. Yet.

In fact, only gradually had he been able to allow Remus to initiate their encounters. He'd been so afraid of lashing out and hurting his lover. More often, he would begin, as he had this time, with control going back and forth.

Remus had understood. He allowed Sirius the control he needed, and been happy to do so. They both knew Sirius was slowly healing, that the balance would eventually be restored. What they had right now was very, very good for both of them.

Very good indeed. Sirius smiled, nuzzling the hair at Remus' nape.

His Remus was an intelligent man. He knew he brought a great deal more to their life together than merely money. He knew he could take of himself if necessary, and he had, for twelve long years. He'd been on the edge, certainly, but even with the times and his curse so heavily against him, he'd survived - with pride and dignity, by himself.

Sirius might mourn its' necessity, but he acknowledged his lover's accomplishments, and Remus knew it.

As Remus had said, there was no question of 'giving and taking' between them. No question of keeping score. What each had was the other's, as well. That might include galleons, and possessions, but it far more often meant love and acceptance, strength and reassurance, peace and security.

Yes, Remus sometimes had a knee-jerk reaction to being given 'things'. He had the perfectly natural reaction of any man - he wished to be able to reciprocate when he was given a gift. If he couldn't, he sometime balked at the gift.  He'd simply been taunted too many times by thoughtless fellow students while at school. Given enough space and time, he always came to his senses.

Sirius was still a little leery of the consequences of this particular gift giving, though. It was on an altogether different scale than any other time. He'd live through it, but the comments might be a bit...

Ah, why worry now. He had Remus in his arms, and sleep was again calling.

Remus awoke, as he usually did in Sirius arms, spoon fashion. He stretched experimentally, enjoying the feeling of satiation, and his lover's arms. Sirius' nose was buried in his neck, his breath blowing little puffs of air, moving wisps of hair about. Life was good.

His lover was a wonder. It was good to be known so well, and cared for so much. At first it had scared him, to be understood so well. Sirius seemed so intent on learning everything about him, and he'd been scared that his lover would find something, some deeply hidden contamination of the Dark, that would scare Sirius off...he'd been terrified Sirius would leave him just as, when a student, he'd been afraid they'd all leave him when they found out he was a werewolf. Some things never change.

Those five years of nothingness still haunted him, as well.

He loved the robe. He loved its color and feel and the fact that Sirius had thought of him. He knew what he looked like, though he'd always tried his best. He did what he could with what he had. Indeed, Sirius had done so, as well. As a fugitive he couldn't access his accounts as himself - Harry's Firebolt had been a wildcard success - and since his acquittal Gringott's had been working hard untangling whatever mess Sirius' finances had worked themselves into. He had an idea that  maybe he'd married a fairly wealthy man.

Just his luck.

Maybe he'd better get used to accepting presents.

On the other hand, making Sirius work at it was fun, too. An ache in his lower extremities reminded him just how much fun.

He yawned. Fun. Now *there* was an idea. Two could play this gifting game.

Remus drifted back to sleep, with thoughts of turning the tables on his lover.

Sirius awoke to a tickling sensation on his face. Blinking his eyes he gradually realized he was wrapped around Remus in a very comfortable bed, his nose buried in the hair at Remus' nape. Not a bad way to wake up at all.

For twelve long years he had missed this. Longer, actually, with his idiotic belief that Remus had betrayed him,  not to mention  James and Lily, and the League.  Even during his marriage to Renata, he had missed Remus. Somewhere, deep inside, he'd known the truth, that as much as he'd loved Renata, it was Remus he loved his whole heart. Remus, the man. Remus, whom he help in his arms right now - warm and soft and his.

He closed his eyes and slept.

Mmmm. Nice. Warm weight along his back, puffs of breath at his neck, arm holding him tightly, and a leg thrown over his. Safety, security, love.

He'd missed this. Only a few days they'd been apart, but it was too many. Too reminiscent of the years they'd been separated. Snuggling closer to the body behind him, he slept.

"Good morning, Lover."

Sirius smiled, luxuriating in the arms. "Is that what it is?"

He felt a smile and a huff of breath against his ear before Remus spoke again.

"For a little while longer. Your Nettie has removed supper and breakfast and brunch, all unappreciated. Lunch is here, looking wonderful, but as nice as it looks, and as hungry as I am, I'd rather not eat it alone."

Sirius rolled to face his lover, wrapping his arms securely around him, burying his face in Remus' neck, smelling the fresh soapy scent, and that elusive essence that was purely and solely Remus and always reminded him of fresh mint.

"Looking for something, Sirius?"

Sirius could hear the amusement in Remus' voice, but ignored it, concentrating instead on the absolute content he felt within.

This was life, his life, which he held in his arms. Life and love, joy and peace and comfort, the object of his lust and the completion of his soul - Remus was everything to him.

For nearly sixteen long years he'd thought Remus lost to him through betrayal and desertion. For twelve long years he'd mourned the loss of his wife and child.

For the last two years he'd exulted in the knowledge that he'd lost nothing, nothing but time, and Light willing, he had plenty of that ahead.

A few things to straighten out, perhaps, a few things to heal, but all he needed was time.

"Looking for something?" Rolling his lover onto his back, he lifted his head and looked down into Remus' eyes. "What would I be looking for? I have everything I need right here." Leaning up on his elbows, he settled back, his knees next to Remus hips, his feet tucked under Remus' knees, his groin pressed into the cradle of Remus hips.

"You think so, hmm?" Remus mouth crinkled into a fond smile, his eyes soft.

"I know so."

Sirius lowered his lips to Remus' for a soft kiss, no passion, simply a greeting and welcoming. A few moments later he ended the kiss and shifted his weight over so they lay side by side, companionably.

"So. Lunch?"

"Lunch."

"Lunch."

"And confessions."

Confessions? For a moment Sirius honestly didn't understand Remus statement, but all too quickly the contents of the room next door came to mind. That, and the small white box under his pillow, the box he'd gone to Hogwarts to get, the box he'd placed in his new robe intending to give it to Remus over supper.

The box he'd forgotten in the heat of the moment.

Oh, yes. Running was looking pretty good, again.

Except for the fact he good reason to know Remus could run a lot for faster and for a good deal longer than he ever could.

Confession, then.

The question was, now? Or after lunch.

After lunch sounded good.

Then again, they were already in bed, and Remus might really like what he had in that white box.

A discrete clearing of Remus throat caught his attention. He turned to him to see what he wanted.

Light, but his lover was beautiful. He'd long ago accepted the fact that a man could be beautiful. Silky hair,  fine bones, hazel eyes, sensuous mouth, soft skin; all his, and underlying it all, for those with the eyes to see, whip cord strength and a steely resolve so sharp and bright he couldn't understand how anyone could miss it.

For all that strength and resolve, that self control, he knew his lover still felt pain and rejection.

Considered non-human and dangerous, constrained and hampered by policies and procedures  as was no other entity in the wizarding world, Remus *never* complained.

Well, maybe he could fix a little of that.

Keeping his eyes on Remus, Sirius reached , awkwardly, with one hand up past his head and beneath his pillow, fumbling about until he felt the smooth cardboard of the small box. He grasped it firmly in two fingers, bring it out from under the pillow and setting it on his chest.

Remus eyes noted the box, then rose back to meet Sirius' gaze, questioning his lover.

Nervous now, Sirius gripped Remus hand tightly, then dropped it.

"We need to sit up, love. This is...important."

Together they sat up, piling pillow behind them, then leaned back against the headboard. The box rested now on his lap.

Sirius, his gaze locked onto Remus' face, reached over and grasped Remus' hand again.
"You remember how I left early for the trip? How I said I was stopping off to see Dumbledore? Maybe do some research in the Library there?"

Remus nodded, confused.

"Well, I did all that, but I also stopped to see Severus." He stopped, not quite sure how to go on. What he said next had the potential to change Remus' life forever.

Remus was sitting still, very still. He had no idea of where this conversation was going, he only knew he trusted Sirius.

Sirius, noting the trust, was able to go on.

"Sirius came to me several months ago, with an idea. For years,ever since you left your position at Hogwarts, he's been...well, he's been very sorry for what he did. He's been looking for something to help you."

Sirius scanned Remus face, and reassured, he went on.

"Ideally, he wants a cure. He's still looking for one, but along the way he found this."

Sirius dropped Remus hand and opened the box. He took out a wide band of thick gold inlaid with true-silver. He opened the catch and held it out to Remus.

Remus did not take it.

"You know how some Muggles have diseases that require frequent ...medication...is the word? And how they can't always be near one of their healers to get it? So they have to be able to medicate themselves?"

Remus nodded. Neither of them were specialists in Muggle Culture, but they did know about Muggle medicine, at least a little. Enough to stay away from it.

"Well,Sirius found a way to spell this bracelet. When you wear it, if you'll wear it, it will release a small amount of Wolf's bane potion into your body continuously. You won't need to find anyone to make it for you, ever again, at least as long as Snape is alive and Hogwarts stands. You'll never have to 'imprison' yourself again.

You're the first and only person to have one of these. If you'll wear it, you'll never have to fight with the Ministry again. You'll be like everyone else, Love. You'll be allowed to apparate, ride and own a broom, get on the train, use floo powder, all without begging the Ministry for permission.

You'll be able to teach, again."

Sirius suddenly found himself with a chestful of Remus. Stunned, he put his arms around his mate and held on tightly.

Never in his wildest dreams had he expected this reaction.

Lowering his head to get closer to Remus ear, he spoke softly.

"Remus, what is it? Don'tyou want bracelet? Don't you want to be free of the Ministry's restrictions? Don't you want to go back to Hogwarts to teach?"

He barely heard the "Yes".

"Then look up love, and tell me what's wrong?"

Sirius loosened his arms and let Remus sit back up. Only then did he realize he still held the bracelet.

"Do you not want the bracelet?"

Remus shook his head, speechless.

"You do?"

Remus nodded.

"You realize the bracelet can never come off? That it will be bonded to you? You understand that? Do you agree to it?"

Remus nodded again.

"Do you want me to put it on you?"

"Yes." The first words Remus had spoken since they'd begun with the bracelet, and they were the words Sirius most wanted to hear.

Sirius reach out with his left hand for Remus' right, and held it steady while he first pushed the bracelet over Remus' fingers, then shifted his grip on the band and drew it up around the bones of his lover's wrist. He looked up into Remus' face again.

"One last chance, love. Are you sure? This is for always."

Remus smiled, a little sadly, though his eyes were shining.

"Other than you, this is almost everything I've ever wanted. I can be with you, I can go with you. I can teach again. I won't hurt anyone. This is almost paradise, Sirius. Yes, I'm sure."

Sirius smiled, and held Remus eyes, while he reached down with his right forefinger and tapped the bracelet sharply. "Omnia vincent amore."

The bracelet tightened, causing a burning pain, seemingly melting into Remus wrist. A second later the pain was gone, and the bracelet was only a bracelet.

Sirius and Remus held each other tightly, laying together, dreaming dreams.

Lunch was ignored.

Sirius opened his eyes slowly, too comfortable at the moment to respond quickly to the discreet double knock at the room door. It would, he knew, be Nettie. She had knocked  several hours earlier in the day in the same way, needing to know when she could make up their room. The interruption had prompted the lovers to  dress and go out for lunch, the Inn’s culinary offering once again left to be discarded. They had returned to find the room cleaned, the flowers freshened and a light snack left out on the hearth.

The two of them, opting for a nap after spending several hours simply walking about the markets and shops of Diagon Alley, ignored the snack and made for the newly made bed and settled in for a short nap.

Sirius eyed his lover. Remus was sound asleep and snuggled closely in his arms. Sirius doubted Remus would wake if Nettie and he were quiet enough. Smiling fondly at his mate, he projected a softly spoken “Enter.”

He watched as Nettie entered quickly, shutting the door quietly behind her before stopping only a few feet inside the room. Realizing she wished to speak to him, he gently set Remus aside and slid off the bed. Pushing his feet into comfortable carpet slippers and motioning the maid to follow, he quietly moved over to the hearth. Seating himself in one of the two comfortable armchairs, he gestured Nettie toward the other, and, in a low voice asked her what she needed.

“Well, sir, it’s this. There have been a few more...”

Sirius, glancing quickly toward his yes, thank you very much, still asleep and oblivious mate, interrupted her, his voice now only a whisper.

“Shhh,” he leaned toward her. “I don’t want him to hear us, he doesn’t know about all of this.”

“Well, Mr. Black, I understand, but he’ll find out sometime, won’t he? I gather a great many of the purchases were made with him in mind. Surprises are all well and good, but what am I to do with all the new deliveries? “ Nettie spoke with a no-nonsense voice to which even hardened Quidditch players would have paid heed.

Casting another apprehensively quick glance toward the bed, Sirius answered her in a near urgent tone. “Can’t you just...” he wiggled his fingers and eyebrows.

“No, sir, I canna.” Nettie clasped her hand together in her lap.

“Then what about...” Sirius gestured toward the connecting room. Surely there was space left there.

“No, sir, it’s full.” She shook her head.
 

Sirius’ eyebrows raised at the answer. Surely he hadn’t purchased all *that* much had he? Complete casual wardrobes for the two of them, work clothing, dress clothing, linens for the farmhouse, work accessories, brooms, books, school supplies... well, maybe he *had* filled the room...

“They’s been deliveries all last evening, again this morning, and even this afternoon. They’s simply nae more room. I need instruction, me manager says, for different arrangements, or we’ll have to start bring the deliveries here.

“Oh, Lord...” Sirius sat back, closing his eyes.

Well. It looked like he was about to pay the piper. Remember Black, it’s all in the presentation. Presentation. Presentation. Think, Black, think. Consistent story. Come *up* with a story. You can do this, Black. It’s just Remus. No reason to be worried. It isn’t all that much. He won’t be...

Sirius opened his eyes and risked another glance toward the bed and his hopefully still slumbering mate.

And encountered a wide-eyed, green-gold gaze.

Busted. No, BUSTED.

Sighing, he turned to Nettie.

“Go ahead and send the deliveries in here, please, Nettie. It’s...” he looked back toward the bed where Remus now leaned his weight upon one elbow, one elegant eyebrow raised, an indulgent and loving smile on his face. “a little late for anything else.”

Sirius gave a fleeting glance toward the gilded mirror set into the wall next to the second floor stairs, reaping a snicker from the frame. Yes, he decided, his smile could be called rueful. Sighing softly, he took another look as he set foot on the bottom stair. Eager anticipation was also rather obvious.

When, he wondered, climbing the flight rapidly, would he finally get Remus figured out?

Never, he devoutly hoped.

He’d expected a bit of disapproval, a spot of ranting, perhaps some reluctance, at the very least a lot of protesting when his mate realized just how much Sirius had purchased on this first foray into town after getting his Gringotts’ accounts straightened out.

He’d gotten none of it.

What he had, in fact, gotten from Remus was...laughter.

Remus, from the bed, had laughed at Sirius as he sat in front of the fireplace talking to Nettie.

He’d laughed at Nettie’s long suffering expression as she tried to make Sirius give complete instructions about the deliveries.

He’d fallen out of bed laughing as the packages and bundles piled up around Sirius.

He’d laughed himself nearly sick as Sirius looked at him in bewilderment.

He’d chuckled his way through Sirius’ attempts to make some sort of order out of the mess, all the while refusing to lend a hand.

When Sirius finally decided he had every right to be indignant about his unappreciative lover’s less than helpful attitude, Remus had degenerated into inelegant snerks.

Sirius retaliated by telling Remus a goodly portion of the ‘mess ‘ was intended for him or the farm.

Remus, grabbing a coat, snerked his way through a laughter hoarsened “Thank you very much” and “ You know where to find me when you’re done” and exited their room.

Sirius, stunned, simply stood for a few minutes in the midst of his packages before once again, doing what any self-respecting Mighty Wizard would do when muddled.

He yelled.

“Nettie!”

Sirius pulled his attention away from his reflections and set his hand to the door knob of his room.

He had, indeed, known where to find Remus. He had not, however, expected Remus to leave just as he’d found him. Remus, after making smolderingly direct eye contact with Sirius, had simply brushed by him as he stood in the doorway of Geddy’s Pub, whispered one quick word to him  as he passed, and apparated.

Sirius, belatedly getting a clue, willingly took the long way home to the Leaky Cauldron.

He was fairly certain Remus would need at least a few minutes to get things ready in their room.

This wasn’t the first time Remus had whispered “Payback” to him.

He’d have to make sure it wasn’t the last.