A/N: A bizarre little one-shot idea that came to me last night. Just more Lupin/Tonks fluffiness, with some Mary Sue bashing at the same time. There is a huge, long run-on sentence or two that you will no doubt pick up on. Rest assured: It's totally intentional. It's trying to simulate the rush of emotions felt when you really, really love someone. I use run-on sentences a lot as you would know if you read any of my poetry which you haven't because I've never posted it up here. How's that for run-on? Speaking of run-on, this is getting long so let's just cut to the chase and read the story, shall we?
It was Christmas. Well, it was sort of Christmas. Really, it was July 19th. Tonks had just decided to make it Christmas. After all, she and Lupin hadn't been able to celebrate Christmas together last year. No, he was still playing the too poor, too old, werewolf card. Whatever. She shook her head, clearing away the memories that still haunted her. It didn't matter anymore. That was the past. Now was the future, and they were together forever. What else mattered?
The war was going on in full force. They had all been feeling down, not knowing when they would have a chance to celebrate again. Hell, nobody even knew if they would be alive to celebrate again. That was why, Tonks decided, today was Christmas. Lupin was off on Order duty and didn't know of her plans. Surprise made it all better- or so she hoped.
She had even changed herself for the occasion. Her normally bright pink hair was honey colored, falling down to her waist. (Really, Tonks was a quintessential Mary Sue, until she tripped over the air and put a deep bruise on her flawless porcelain skin) She employed a few curse words that no self-respecting Mary Sue would ever utter, mended her bruise, repeated a bit of a spell, and carried on.
By the time Lupin was due to arrive, Tonks had changed into a sort of cross between a corset and a nightdress. Either way, it was short, low-cut, and extremely tight. It was made out of a clingy purple silk fusion that hugged in all the right places. Though, looking into the mirror, Tonks realized that there were no wrong places for it to hug. With a haughty shake of her golden hair, she arranged herself on the couch to wait for her husband to arrive.
It wasn't long before Lupin came home. He did a double-take when he saw the strange blonde woman sitting on his couch.
"Dora?" he gasped.
She nodded. Lupin made an obvious effort to recover from his shock.
"Uh…nice…dress…thing…" he stammered.
"Thank you," she said, making an equally obvious effort to make it seem like nothing was wrong.
"So what's the occasion?"
"We never had Christmas together last year, so I decided that today is Christmas."
"Oh?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah. I even made us Christmas dinner. Come eat!"
"I don't know," he said doubtfully. "I love you, Dora, but are you sure we shouldn't just order take-out somewhere? Don't you remember the last 'meal' you cooked?"
She blushed at the memory. It had involved a burnt kitchen, a broken foot, charred turkey and the cooking alcohol hadn't ended up in the meal.
"Yeah, but it's better now, I promise!"
They sat down at the table. A delicious meal was spread out before them, complete with candles and champagne.
"This is actually really good," Lupin said as he munched a bit of roast beef.
"You had doubts?"
"Well, yeah. When did you learn to cook?"
"It's easy. I can do anything you want. Tonight I'll be perfect for you."
Lupin chucked. "Perfect, huh? Okay, hop on one foot and go get me some more wine."
Feeling slightly ridiculous, she nonetheless obliged him and managed to return with herself and the wine bottle in one piece.
"Okay," Lupin said, "If you're perfect, pour this wine without spilling any of it."
"Are you going to keep testing me to see if I really am perfect?" she asked, exhasperated.
"Yep. Now do it, missy!"
Sighing, she poured the wine into two glasses without spilling a single drop of the deep purple liquid. Lupin applauded a little sarcastically.
"So how did you become so perfect?" he asked.
"It's easy. I just borrowed a spell from my friend, Mary Sue. It's been passed down her family for generations. They're totally perfect, always."
"Huh."
"You don't sound too thrilled."
"Of course I am, darling. Whatever makes you happy."
Her favorite song came onto the radio that was humming softly in the kitchen. Grabbing Lupin's hand, Tonks pulled him off the chair.
"Let's dance!" she exclaimed.
"So, Little Miss Perfect, does that mean you won't step on my toes?" Lupin asked. When she nodded, he took her other hand and they began to dance around the room, laughing and holding each other like there was nothing else in the world that mattered and the universe had folded in to just carry the two of them, and the rules of time and space were broken until there was no future, no past, no other place except the here and the now. They danced until they were red-faced and stumbling with fatigue, until they were on clouds and looking down at the rivers and forests and little people, small as bread crumbs, that made up the real world. They danced until, meal forgotten, they collapsed on their couch and made love like it was the last time they might ever do it. Even that was a kind of dance, a dance that neither wanted to end but, like all dances, it eventually did so they were left just holding each other and never wanting to let go.
When the grandfather clock chimed eleven, the Mary Sue's spell broke. It had only been temporary, so Tonks became Tonks again, pink-haired and clumsy and not quite so perfect.
"Is the spell broken?" Lupin asked.
Tonks nodded. "I could get a permanent one if you'd like," she said seriously.
Lupin laughed and turned her around until she was looking straight into his eyes. "Why would I ever want that?"
"Because I'm not perfect. I can't pour wine or dance or hop on one foot. I don't have honey-colored hair or porcelain skin. I'm not unconditionally sweet and if I fought someone twice as powerful as I am, I would lose."
"Honey, to you, is that what perfect is?"
"Isn't that what it is to everyone?"
"No. Want to know what perfect is?"
"What? I'll do it, I swear. Anything you like."
"Perfect is spiky pink hair and eyes that never quite stay the same shade. It's the blush in pale cheeks that rises from tripping or dropping things and causing a scene. It's Weird Sisters t-shirts and ripped up jeans. Everything beautiful and perfect is in my arms right now, about to fall off the couch and drag me down with her."
His premonition came true and they were both soon sprawled out over the rug.
"No," Tonks argued. "That's not perfect. You know what perfect is? Perfect is scarred torsos and graying hair, deep brown eyes that are so safe and so new at the same time, strong arms wrapped around me and calming lips making me feel like it's all okay. You're perfect, Remus, so perfect. I love you so much. More than I can even say."
He pulled her head close, the pink spikes feeling much more sensual than silky golden locks ever could, and kissed her. "I love you, Dora, just as much. You, not someone that you're not and never will be. I didn't fall in love with your friend Mary Sue. I fell in love with you, and please don't ever forget that."
Holding each other, still sprawled out naked on the floor, they both fell asleep. It was July 19th, Christmas, and everything was perfect and right.