No spoilers for Deathly Hallows, but definite HBP ones. ...obviously. It's after the confrontation in the Hospital Wing and though they've been together off and on, Tonks is tired of being pushed aside and is ready for Remus to buck up or go home. I believe this was another that I wrote for LJ's RT Challenge, but help me if I can remember the prompt.

And of course, I don't own them. If I did I'd have them together months before right in front of Harry's face.

"Don't you see?" she hissed through gritted teeth, looking up at him. Remus hesitated, swallowing hard. He'd seen Tonks' anger escalate before, but this?

Averting his eyes, he took a few steps away. Pausing at a window, he leaned against the cold stone of the castle wall and sighed. He ran a hand through his light brown hair, knowing that moonlight was probably illuminating the obvious streaks of gray--worse, now, since he'd moved in on Greyback's pack.

Everything sounded so simple when she said it. She didn't care, so she often said. But he cared. She was so beautiful, even with limp, mousy brown hair hanging in her face. Those gray eyes glared at him, flashing the colour of steel. Despite the fact that he was taller and older and the more experienced wizard, Remus actually flinched.

"Tonks, please," he protested feebly, knowing he was losing ground. Just as he often did when they bickered. Every single time he'd get so far in defending his reasons for leaving her, and in the end, he had to walk away, for fear of her tearing down the wall he'd built. "Try to understand."

Her jaw set more tightly still, so tightly he was afraid she might break it. "I don't understand," she almost yelled, her voice echoing through the walls of the empty classroom. "I don't, and I never will! And you don't understand what you're doing to me, you just don't, or you wouldn't keep doing this!"

The castle grounds were dark. From the Defense Against the Dark Arts room's window, Remus could make out the grass in the misty gray of pre-dawn light. There were scorch marks, places burnt from hexes missed. Places that could've been Harry, or Hagrid, or even young Malfoy. They could've all died that night. He knew that as well as anyone.

Slowly, he turned to face her, his eyes dark. She was still steaming, panting slightly with the effort her verbal assault had cost her. Tonks' cheeks were flushed, her fists clenched, but through it all, he saw exactly what she didn't want him seeing. She was vulnerable. They'd lost a great deal that night. Dumbledore was gone. Snape had turned on them. Everything Remus thought was right was wrong. And the one thing he'd kept swearing was wrong...

"I do understand," Remus murmured finally, perching at the edge of the desk. It didn't escape his mind that it was Snape's desk he was sitting on. Snape, the greatest traitor of them all. Remus' mind was in a whirlwind of confusion. Those he thought he'd trusted had turned. His most trusted mentor was dead. And the woman he loved, who he'd never been able to confess that to, had turned an entire hospital wing on its ear by confessing her feelings in front of them all.

Tonks looked at him, suspiciously. There was still anger flickering through her eyes, but her breathing was slowly becoming more steady. She took a step forward. Her hand reached out, as if to touch him, but it slowly drifted back to her side. Remus stared back at her, his own eyes tired and sorrowful. "I'm sorry."

The words didn't seem to register at first. Her face stayed curious, skeptical even. Then doubt arrived, and finally, joy. An expression he knew well from the long nights spent holding her in his arms. She released a shuddering breath. "What?" Tonks asked, flicking her tongue over her chapped lower lip.

Though he offered a smile, his face was still drawn. He opened his arms, silently. Without another moment's doubt, Tonks flew into them, clutching at the back of his robes with small fists, gasping as tears poured down her cheeks. "I'm sorry," he repeated, stroking the back of her plain, brown hair. "I can't promise you anything. You know what I am, you see what I am. I can't change that."

"I don't," she began between hiccupping sobs, "don't want you to change. I want you. Just like Molly said." She raised her tear-streaked face to his, still holding him tightly. "I just want you, Remus. Thirty-six years old, completely broke, and entirely werewolf. I love you."

Her words were blunt, harsh almost, but they made him smile because he knew exactly what she was trying to do. Tonks was going for the shock factor, jarring him. But it wasn't needed. Not anymore. Taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, Remus lowered his head to hers, kissing her sweetly. "I love you, too," he finally whispered, for the first time. She'd said it before. Many times. But he'd never repeated the words, always afraid of putting too much of himself forward.

But when you'd lost everything, it was easier to do anything. Tonks looked up, her eyes wide. Green eyes, he noted with surprise. The look of shock must have shown on his face because she tilted her head, her features confused. "Dora," he began softly, running a finger over a stray lock of her hair, "try morphing."

Obviously bewildered, Tonks gave him a look that plainly said he was daft. "I'm tired of trying," she whispered, lowering her face.

"Try again," Remus urged. "Just once." It was a hunch. A poor one, but a hunch just the same.

Closing her eyes, she exhaled and looked back up at him. He was grinning widely. "What?" she asked, frustrated.

Remus held up the strand to her eyes and winked. Tonks' mouth dropped open when she noticed that her brown hair had gone red. Not far from her original shade, but red it was. "It's not much," he commented, "as I doubt that's what you were going for. But it's a start."

"I was shooting for blonde," she muttered, but there was a smile lighting her eyes.

"Never did like blondes much anyway," Remus teased, and pulled her close for another, longer kiss.