A Bird's-eye View

By Finnity

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Warnings: This will contain allusions to and scenes of slash (male/male love). So if that bothers you, please turn back now. Also, I feel I must warn you of my lack of general knowledge. I'm not exactly sure when this story is taking place- sometime earlier in the twentieth century, or perhaps completely AU (it's definitely AU though). So, if I make any mistakes or something seems off, don't hesitate to call it to my attention or offer suggestions (I can't guarantee I'll be able to fix it but I'll sure try! :)

A/N: Yes, the title is a pun ("bird" as in girl and "bird's-eye" as in...well, you all know what that means), please don't throw things at me. My small (and regrettably sleep-deprived) mind thought it was clever, so...humor me, yeah? Also, the main character will have not have her name mentioned (if I can help it); that is purposeful. If you read "she" or "her" and there is no reference to any character, just credit the actions to her ("her" being the main character). The story will be through her eyes.

Now, enough of my lengthy tangents, on with the story...

Chapter 1: Wedding Night

It was a lovely wedding. Every bit the extravagant, ornate ceremony she'd always dreamed since her childhood. When she was young she knew she'd be married on a grassy moor by the seaside, surrounded by lavish ornamentation, melodious music, hundreds of guests, both relative and mere acquaintance, gifts, and other such opulence. There were numerous envious glares cast in her direction, but that only fueled her high spirits. Men wanted her. Women wanted to be her. What more could a woman ask for in life? After all, if people never valued what you have, how would you know how much it was really worth? Judging form the covetous looks cast at her, she gathered it must be valued rather extraordinarily.

Oh, but best of all was her husband. She couldn't have dreamed up a better candidate. Honestly, the man was handsome, from a well-known, wealthy family, therefore both rich and prestigious. She didn't know too much about his personality (Other than that he seemed as enigmatic and dark as his looks insinuated), as she had only met him a few times prior to the wedding, but he appeared to be an interesting character, with a sort of self-assured, aloofness. He seemed decent enough.

Did she mention that he was handsome? Because there was no doubt about that. As she watched him conversing quietly with an acquaintance with dreadfully unkempt hair (how terribly uncouth; this was a wedding, not a football pitch), who was perhaps a person from the company Mr. Black, Sr. owned (What was they manufactured, again? Tobacco?), she couldn't help feel her heart flutter in anticipation for the night to come. This was real. In a matter of hours she'd have her fingers entwined in that sleek, black hair, staring into beautiful, lust-filled eyes that mirror her own want.

Suddenly, as if sensing her thoughts, those eyes (One could get lost in those dark, grey depths and lose all regard for directions completely) were turned in her direction, and when their eyes met, it felt like an electrical storm, cool tingling surging through her body and warmth spreading to her extremities; like the sensory upheaval she'd experienced when it was their lips that touched at the words "you may now kiss the bride."

His face was a blank slate, and he made no motion of acknowledgement toward her. When she raised a hand in a tentative waving motion, he did not wave back. His eyes narrowed imperceptibly, conveying an emotion she'd yet to learn from her few observations of the inscrutable Sirius Black. However, when the edges of lips quirked upward ever so slightly, she felt as if it were not a warm smile; it seemed to her to be almost...mocking, as if he were on the verge of condescending laughter (Surely that wasn't so. No, no, it was a trick of the mind, too many glasses of wine perhaps...?), when he finally looked away.

There! She'd definitely seen it! Right before he tore his eyes away. There had been an almost predatory look in his eyes. She had not imagined it, if his wicked laughter was anything to go by. That was all the reassurance she needed. She could hardly stand the hour's wait before he took her home...

That night he hadn't carried her bridal style over the threshold like she'd always dreamed. He hadn't thrown her onto their bed and ravished her. He hadn't stared longingly and romantically into her eyes as if she was the one thing he needed in the world. He hadn't even looked at her. When they'd reached his expectedly lavish home, he'd walked silently up the stairs while she'd followed equally mutely. He had allowed her into the bedroom and, without a single word or glance behind, entered the conjoined bathroom.

His behavior confused her, but that's not to say it discouraged her want. In fact, it excited her. He was so very... masculine, feigning disinterest. She scurried about trying to remove her bulky gown and her hair from its bobby-pinned hold. After several minutes of wrenching and writhing, she successfully discarded her dress, scrambling to the mirror to begin the meticulous process of removing the pins from her hair without ruining her perfectly coiled curls. After checking to make sure that each pin had been removed, she fluffed her hair a bit and smoothed out the creases of her nightdress before moving to the bed.

When Sirius finally opened the door to the bathroom, clad in shorts and an undershirt, he tossed his suit unceremoniously to the carpet and climbed into bed. She followed him, expecting that was what he'd intended her to do (He was not indifferent; he was just a man). She lay her body beside his with unrepressed hesitancy. After several moments of silence and inaction, she decided that he perhaps wanted her to take action (after all, these were modern times; things were changing). She shifted closer and lifted her arms out for him.

"Goodnight," he bit out, with such firmness and finality that she recoiled and drew her arms, instead, around herself. Confusion affected her restless mind and so remained her sleep.

A/N: Read, review, and constructively criticize, please! I know I said I would write another chapter for my "I Trust You" story, but I've been through one of my frequent, periodic funks, and I never got around to finishing it (and I don't feel like I could do it justice if I wrote now). I wrote this a while ago and thought I'd go over it. I'm not the greatest at expression or forethought in writing, but I really thought this was a good premise for a story (the inspiration of which I got from "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof") and decided to try it. So...

Horrible? Decent? Should I continue? Or nip it in the bud?