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The dinner had been, of course, a quiet success.
The chess board was set out on the coffee table for when the dregs of the coffee had been sipped and the dishes had been cleared away; as it was, however, a few delectable bites still remained on each plate, and neither Albus nor Minerva seemed especially eager to leave the table anyway.
Albus was murmuring on and on about the Ministry, about the new shop ordinances—it provided good background noise, a steady rhythm to the after-dinner lethargy stealing over the room. Minerva listened drowsily, not so much listening to the words as she did to the way his voice rose and fell, tone like the ebb and flow of a river. She twirled her fork in one hand and pushed around a few green beans to outline a face that might have looked like Flich's, if only there had been corn to accent his yellow eyes.
"Would you care for a kiss, Minerva?"
Minerva dropped the fork with a clatter, feeling a ruby flush flood her face. What had he just said?
Albus apparently didn't notice her reaction; he pressed on, persuasive. "I don't know if you've ever had one before, but they're really quite good—and they dissolve in your mouth, ever so sweetly…"
Minerva stared at him, mouth half-gaping as her heart fluttered in her ribcage, threatening to fly away.
Was this how men normally asked for a kiss? What would he do, lean over the table? But there was a set of candlesticks in the way…her imagination kidnapped her common sense, piecing together a hot and steamy scene in which they both were at least thirty years younger, toppling over on the bed...
Albus looked up as he was digging around in his pocket, finally noting her turmoil. A flush to match Minerva's crept up his neck, spread to the tips of his ears and his long, crooked nose. "Oh, dear!" he said, managing to hide his embarrassment. "I forgot that we're not all acquainted with Muggle sweets, dear Minerva!"
He pulled his hand out of the pocket of his robes, tinfoil in his palm. All of a sudden, Albus wished he hadn't tried these Muggle chocolates either…he wondered if Minerva would ever accept the traditional variety, then berated himself for thinking about an estimable colleague (and former student!) in such a fashion.
"Try one," he urged, though it was a half-hearted appeal. Minerva had adjusted her face so that it was a stoic mask once more. She unwrapped the chocolate, noting that the wretched candy was called a "Hershey's Kiss."
She thought she'd find whoever had named these dratted sweets and hex them into infinity.
It was nice, she admitted. Sweet, like Honeyduke's.
…but not as good as the real thing.
The two consumed several, then moved to the chess board and played a rather awkward game in semi-silence. Every time either one tried to talk the words hung on the air, so tangible and discomfited that they encroached on the game. Albus kept shifting uncomfortably on his chair. Minerva, eager to crawl into bed and shut off the day, directed her pieces in a rather unenthusiastic manner and let him capture her king with barely a struggle.
"Thank you for the food and entertainment, Minerva" Albus said as they stood by her door. Minerva threw him a slight grin, hoping that he wouldn't notice her unease in the darkness that covered the room like a blanket.
Albus had his hand on the doorknob when he turned around suddenly, bright eyes thoughtful as if he'd forgotten something.
"Would you care for another kiss, Minerva?"
The Transfiguration professor raised her eyebrows. "I do have some Honeyduke's of my own," she said. "I swear, I'll get as big as Hagrid!" Discerning an unreadable look behind his glasses and deciding that it would be impolite to refuse, Minerva sighed. "They were quite good," she admitted. "All right."
Albus reached in his pocket, rummaging around. A slight frown curved his lips. "I'll have to order some more," he muttered. If Minerva hadn't known better, she would have sworn the look in his eyes was somewhat mischievous, a little nervous…
Albus promptly placed his hands around Minerva's waist and touched his lips to hers, so sweetly and softly that Minerva caught her breath and had to loop her arms around his neck to keep her balance.
Chocolate, her brain registered, sweet and slow and sure and good…and perfect, just perfect.
Albus broke the kiss with a smile and a wink, elated and afraid at the same time. He scanned her face for a reaction, hoping his long-restricted impulse hadn't cost him a dear friendship. "I think I like those much better than the Muggle variety," he ventured. Whatever the Headmaster saw written on her features must have been gratifying; he turned with a swish of his robes to stroll down the hall, humming a tune under his breath.
Minerva pressed her fingers to her lips and grinned like a schoolgirl, watching him melt into the night.
Kisses, indeed!
- - -
(Crazily fluffy, I know...this is mainly a tribute to my home state, where Kisses can be bought straight from the factory! Please R& R...and if you have time for something a bit more serious, please check out my Neville story. I'd really appreciate reviews wherever you can spare them. Let me know what I need to work on--and I'll do the same for you!
Thanks for reading, and
always write on...
-temerity)