A/N: Ha, I am so terrible at coming up with titles. ANYWAY, this started out as a one-shot at the bequest of my friend Bree, and quickly turned into a two-shot. I hope you enjoy!
"I can't believe you're getting married tomorrow," Marlene gushed as she stood on tiptoe to grab three glasses from the cabinet above the sink.
"God, me neither," Dorcas said.
"Oh come on, Dorky, you haven't been able to stop smiling all week," Marlene said with a roll of her eyes, passing a glass to Lily and Dorcas.
"She has a point, Dor," Lily agreed.
"Yeah, all right," Dorcas relented, as a big grin spread demonstratively across her face.
"And you should be happy," Lily continued. "John is lovely. And you're going to look so beautiful in your dress—not that you aren't always beautiful, of course."
"It's too bad John's going to ruin your beautiful dress when he rips it off with his teeth afterwards," Marlene said with a devious grin, popping the cork on the champagne and filling the other girls' glasses.
"Graphic, Marlene," Lily said.
"Only for you, Miss Innocent," her friend countered. "But let's toast—to Dorcas Meadowes and her sure to be mind-blowing wedding night."
"Hear, hear," Lily added as Dorcas laughed, clinking her glass with the others and taking a sip. "So, what's on for tonight, bride-to-be?"
"A little private celebration here, and then I thought we could go out somewhere . . ." She and Marlene exchanged looks.
"What?" Lily asked, a suspicious frown appearing between her brows.
"Well, you know, McClanighan's is always fun—" Dorcas started casually.
Lily's eyes widened. "No. Oh no, no, no, you are not doing that to me."
"Doing what?" Dorcas asked, still trying to maintain an innocent expression.
"Manipulating me into going there because you know I have to do whatever you want tonight!"
"You're over-exaggerating, Lils, it's just a pub," Marlene said placatingly.
But Lily refused to be persuaded. There was no way she was going back to that place to be aggressively chatted up by the—admittedly cute—bartender who always seemed to be on shift when she and her friends went out. "I'm sorry, Dorcas, but I will not be put through that again."
"He is fit, Lily, you can't deny that."
As she had, indeed, just acknowledged this fact to herself, Lily nodded begrudgingly. "That's the problem. He thinks because he's attractive it excuses his annoying behavior."
Marlene sighed dramatically. "You sound like a snob, Lils."
"No, Lily just has a more refined taste than you, Marls," Dorcas said with false sweetness, earning a glare from Marlene. "It's all right," she added to Lily, "we'll go somewhere else. There're a lot of places that—"
A knock on the door cut her off, and Marlene returned Dorcas's cloying smile of moments before. "She's going to kill you," she said in a sing-song voice.
"She can't—I have to get married in the morning," Dorcas declared confidently, setting down her glass of champagne and moving towards the door.
It swung open on a tall young man with disheveled black hair and hazel eyes that sparkled with a certain mischief. He was dressed in dark jeans and red suspenders that stretched over a plaid flannel shirt whose sleeves had been ripped off. But despite his unusual attire, Lily's eyes immediately widened in horrified recognition.
It was him. The bartender—she could only recall that his last name was 'Potter', though she remembered every flirtatious word he'd spoken to her with perfect clarity.
"Evening, ladies," Potter said, swinging what Lily dearly hoped was a fake ax from hand to hand. "I heard you might need some things torn down in here."
Marlene was doubled over in laughter, hanging onto the kitchen counter for support. Lily stood beside her in furious silence, torn between yelling at her mates and wishing she could become invisible.
Dorcas, keeping an admirable hold on her composure, smiled coyly at James. "Well, I'm not married yet . . . come right in."
Potter's gaze flicked over Marlene, still sniggering uncontrollably, and finally to Lily, who found herself unable to look away once their eyes met. After giving her a conspiratorial smile, as though they were sharing some private joke, Potter turned back to Dorcas. "Is there somewhere I could . . ." he began, digging an iPod out of his pocket.
"Yes, right over there," Dorcas said, pointing to the speaker dock above her fireplace.
Potter leaned his ax against the wall, plugged in his iPod, and pressed play. Immediately, the booming lyrics of "Cherry Pie" filled the small flat, and Potter started to swing his hips to the beat. This set Marlene into another fit of giggles, and Lily could tell Dorcas was biting back hard on a smile as well. As Potter slowly drew his suspenders over his shoulders, Lily suddenly understood why he'd donned such a strange outfit. "Oh, God," she whispered.
Just as the lead singer let out a guttural cry, James whipped around and gave his trousers a sharp tug. They tore free easily, splitting along the snaps that had apparently held them together. Marlene let out a loud cheer, and Lily attempted to hide her face behind her champagne flute, though the skinny, transparent object did not make for much of a shield.
"This is not happening," she muttered to herself, settling instead for averting her eyes from Potter's tight boxers.
With a wicked grin, Potter gyrated his way towards Dorcas, who smiled gamely and pretended to grind against him, eliciting another appreciative shout from Marlene. The other girl ran forward and started dancing behind Potter, hips moving in sync with his. As Lily watched, she couldn't help thinking how ridiculous the three of them looked, and her lips, pursed tightly moments before, relaxed into a smile.
That is, until Potter's eyes locked with hers. The impish glint in his eyes intensified, and he slid from between Dorcas and Marlene, swaggering towards Lily instead. "No, please don't—" she implored, holding up her hands in an effort to keep him at bay.
But she should have known better. He'd never heeded her protests in the past, so why should tonight be any different?
She backed against the counter behind her, leaning instinctively away as Potter advanced, undoing the buttons on his shirt. His eyes never left hers, and Lily could feel her face heat up as he came closer. She tried to focus on the song rather than Potter's bare chest, but soon realized that this was a mistake. "She wanted me to feed her/So I mixed up the batter/And she licked the beater . . ."
Lily heard Potter chuckle softly and closed her eyes briefly, sure she'd never blushed this hard in her life and desperately hoping this was all a bad dream. When she opened them again, she jumped at finding Potter's face inches from hers, his hands planted against the cabinets on either side of her head. "Hello, Miss Evans," he said in a low voice.
And Lily, with frantic thoughts of escape pushing her on, impulsively tossed the remaining contents of her glass straight in his face.
Potter let out a yell of surprise and stumbled back, spluttering. Lily glared heatedly at him before turning her smoldering gaze on her mates. All she'd wanted was a night out with just the three of them, but now . . .
Dorcas had her hands over her mouth and an alarmed look in her wide brown eyes; no sign of laughter remained on Marlene's face.
The latter took a hesitant step forward. "Lily," she tried, "look, we just thought it would be a laugh if—"
"Am I laughing?" Lily asked flatly. Striding to the other end of the room, she snatched up her purse and threw open the door to the flat. "See you at the wedding," she growled, and not bothering to shut the door behind her, she marched into the hall and stomped angrily down the stairs.
On the second floor landing, she heard someone clattering down the stairs above her.
"Hang on, there, Miss Evans," called Potter, and Lily's fists clenched at the sound of his voice.
She whipped around to face him—thankfully, he'd put his clothes back on, although only half of the snaps were done up on his trousers. "Go away . . . Potter!" she bit out, still unable to remember his first name.
"James," the other supplied helpfully, and his amused expression only infuriated Lily further.
"Whatever," she said impatiently, moving towards the stairs again.
"Wait," James said, grabbing her arm. Lily shot him a smoldering look, and James promptly let go, raising his hands in surrender. "Okay, just . . . I'm sorry. I didn't think you would—I mean, your friend, the one getting married—"
"Dorcas," Lily gritted out between clenched teeth.
"Right, Dorcas—she thought it might, you know, even things out between us if I—"
"Humiliated me? She's got a funny way of settling the score."
James gave her an odd look. "I'd say I'm the one who should have felt humiliated back there."
Lily let out a harsh laugh. "Yes, you seemed incredibly embarrassed," she said derisively.
Ruffling his hair absently, James said, "Well, you didn't see the weeks of preparation that took, or the endless taunting I got from my roommate Sirius. I had this whole bit planned out—shame you didn't get to see all of it, really." Belatedly realizing this didn't exactly help his cause, James rushed on, "But it wasn't supposed to make you uncomfortable, it was supposed to make me look like an idiot, although you probably already thought that, anyway . . ." There was a moment of silence, before James added quietly, "And I'm not actually a stripper, just to be clear."
"It showed," Lily said, but her expression had softened slightly.
Instantly, the grin returned to James's face. "Ouch. But I guess I deserved that."
Leaning back against the wall with a sigh, Lily relented at last, "All right, I might have overreacted a bit. Dorcas probably was only trying to help . . ." Feeling guilty, Lily bit her lip. "I shouldn't have thrown that champagne at you, and I definitely shouldn't have stormed out like that, I mean it's supposed to be Dorcas's hen night and ev—" She stopped because James had started laughing. "What?"
He shook his head incredulously. "You're joking, right?" Lily frowned at him, uncomprehending. Slumping against the wall next to her, he let out another short laugh. "Christ—you're actually that nice, aren't you? Look, you can be angry, all right? It was a stupid idea, and yet here you are practically apologizing to me and worried about what your friend's thinking—"
Lily paused, unsure how to respond. Her eyes traveled over James's lumberjack clothes and her mouth twisted slightly. "I really can't talk to you seriously when you're wearing those," she said.
"Well, you seemed even less capable of speech when I was without them, so I figured this would be more prudent," James replied. He grinned when Lily's lips twitched in spite of herself. "Was that nearly a smile? It was! Don't try to hide it from me, Miss Evans, it's too late."
"Why do you do that?"
"Do what? Make you smile uncontrollably? I don't know, s'pose it's just my natural charm that—"
"No," Lily interrupted, "why do you keep calling me 'Miss Evans'?"
"Oh, that. Well, you might recall that you accused me of acting in too friendly a manner last time we met, so I figured I'd better go with a little more formality, just to be on the safe side." He smirked at her, and Lily nearly found herself smiling again in return. His crooked grin was dangerously contagious, and she had to glance away to gain control of her features before speaking.
"I think what I actually said was that I didn't know you well enough for you to be . . . you know . . ." To her dismay, she could feel her cheeks begin to flush again at the thought of the things he'd said to her the many times their paths had crossed, how he'd known just the way to leave her flustered and speechless. In fact, she was fairly certain that's why he did it in the first place—he enjoyed unsettling her.
"Chatting you up?" James offered in the silence of her unfinished sentence. "Well, I couldn't help it—I was hopeless in the face of such beauty."
At this, Lily couldn't keep from laughing. "You cannot be real. No one says things like that!"
"I'm as real as you, Miss Evans," James assured her. "Although I'm only assuming you're still pretty—I'm blind as a bat without my specs. But they didn't really go with the rest of the ensemble."
"Mmm, yes, they might get damaged during all of your . . . lumberjacking." She laughed again, and James smiled in return. They were both quiet for a while, and Lily caught herself admiring the subtle mix of brown, green, and blue in his eyes. Glancing swiftly away, she searched for something to say. "I didn't mean that you had to be formal, exactly," she murmured finally, continuing their earlier conversation. "I just wanted . . ." she sighed quietly. "I don't know—I just wished you'd treated me like a normal person." James finally had the good grace to look abashed, but Lily didn't notice and went on with a little laugh, "I guess I'm just not really into the whole pub scene. You know, where all the blokes are only looking to take a girl home for the night—"
"I wasn't looking for that," James said quickly. "Honest, I wasn't. You always just seemed so . . ."
"Uptight?" Lily suggested dully.
"No. Interesting." Lily eyed him skeptically, and James flushed faintly. "Right, that doesn't sound very complimentary, but . . . uh . . ." He laughed nervously, rubbing his neck. "I dunno, I guess I always got this feeling when you were around that I was supposed to get to know you . . ." Shaking his head, he shifted his gaze to the opposite railing. "Sounds pretty mad, doesn't it?"
Lily watched him in astonishment. Gone was the easy confidence and arrogant charm that he usually exuded in nauseating waves. Suddenly, he was the flustered one, stumbling over words, unable to meet her eye. Just as she was beginning to consider whether she'd spectacularly misjudged him, James spoke again.
"Well, I should be going, shouldn't I? You've got a hen party to return to, and I have proper clothing to find." Pushing off from the wall, he looked down at her with a smile. "Always a pleasure, Miss Evans."
Lily found herself on the verge of asking him to stay, to come out with her, Dorcas, and Marlene . . . but of course that was ridiculous. He was right—he couldn't go anywhere dressed like that. Instead, she returned his smile, saying, "Just 'Lily' is fine."
"I'll keep that in mind. See you around, Lily."
After Dorcas and Marlene had each apologized about a hundred times, to the point where Lily became more frustrated with their contrition than the fact that they'd invited James there without her knowledge, and after Dorcas had insisted Lily decide what they do for the rest of the evening, things finally settled back on the track Lily'd had in mind earlier. Only now, she found her thoughts constantly returning to James Potter, regretting again that she hadn't invited him along . . . She almost suggested they go to McClanighan's after all, before realizing that of course James probably wasn't working that night.
Instead, they ended up at another of their favorite pubs on the other side of town. Lily tried to force James from her mind and focus on Dorcas, and was nearly succeeding until her friend grabbed her arm, insisting urgently, "I swear I didn't ask him here, Lily . . ."
Lily followed her shocked look to the door of the pub, where incredibly, James himself had just walked through. He was accompanied by two young men; one was exceedingly handsome, and wore a smirk reminiscent of the one Lily had seen on James many a time, while the other had a quieter, shyer smile and hung slightly behind the other two.
To her surprise, Lily found that she'd already slid off her stool and was balanced on the balls of her feet, hand lifting to wave James over. But she hesitated for just a moment, unsure whether he was merely out for a night with his mates as she was and didn't want to be interrupted. In those small seconds, the three boys disappeared towards a table at the far end of the room.
"Oh, go over there already, would you?" Marlene said impatiently, nudging Lily with an elbow.
"Five minutes—that's all, I promise," Lily said to Dorcas, who was smiling incredulously.
"Some days I swear I don't know you at all, Lily Evans," was all she said in return, before flapping her hand as though to shoo Lily away.
Leaving her drink with Marlene—and fully expecting it to be gone by the time she returned—Lily began to weave her way across the pub to James's table.
"—no way it's going to work," he was saying as she approached. Lily noticed he was once again wearing the round spectacles that usually perched on his nose. "Even you couldn't pull that off, mate, I'm sorry to—"
"Hi," Lily said, the word coming out slightly breathless after her fight through the crowd.
James looked up. "Well, imagine seeing you here, Evans," he said, face breaking into a disarmingly adorable crooked grin that made Lily's breath catch in her throat. "And still beautiful, as I suspected," he added, tapping his specs.
"I said you could call me Lily," she managed, hoping he wouldn't notice her slightly strangled tone.
"Nah, I like 'Evans' better," James said.
"He's a stripper, you know," one of James's mates—the smirking one—put in.
"Bugger off, Sirius," James retorted, eyes never leaving Lily's.
"Oi, you can't just tell me to—"
"Come on, you dolt," the third man said, prodding his friend in the side to make him move.
"Fine. Remus and I will go prove you wrong—that line is going to work on one of these birds in here, mark my words."
"Great," James said absently, still watching Lily with an amused smile.
She slid onto the bench James's mates had vacated. "You don't give up easily, do you?" James quirked a questioning eyebrow. "All those times you've flirted with me, despite the fact that I didn't exactly encourage it; persisting with calling me 'Evans' even though I told you to call me Lily . . . I mean, it's probably something I should know about you, right? If we're going to be friends."
James leaned back, crossing his arms. "Are we?" he asked archly.
"Yes. See, I'm stubborn too—that's something you should know."
"So what you're saying is that we'll probably fight a lot."
"Probably. But I'm also—maybe paradoxically—too nice for my own good, as you've already observed, so I don't think it'll ruin the friendship," Lily assured him.
"Because you're going to let me win every time."
Lily raised her eyebrows. "I didn't say that. Certainly that would be disastrous, considering you already think too highly of yourself."
Grin widening, James leaned his elbows on the table. "So let me get this straight—we should be friends because you need someone to practice being mean on and I could stand to be taken down a few pegs? Is that about right?"
"Mmm, I'm glad we understand each other," Lily said, nodding satisfactorily.
James nodded slowly, lips pursed in consideration. "All right. You're on, Evans. Now, can I buy you a drink? You appear to be lacking one, and I'm in need of something myself. A friendly drink, that's all," he added when Lily hesitated. "Or it can be an unkind drink, if you'd prefer to take a crack at yelling at me instead."
"Why don't you make it a friendly one, and then if you try any funny business I can always dump it on you again."
James pointed a finger at her. "Brilliant. Always thinking ahead, aren't you, Evans?"
"Just get the drinks, Potter."
He returned with two beers, taking a sip of his own as he settled across from her once more. "Okay, what else do I need to know about you, friend?" he asked.
Lily opened her mouth to reply, but just then a voice called over the chatter around them, "Oy, Potter!"
Both Lily and James turned toward the sound to find Sirius grinning at them from beside the ancient jukebox at the far end of the pub.
"This lovely young woman," he indicated the tall brunette beside him, "doesn't believe you're really a stripper."
"I'm not," James shouted back. By now, several people around them had stopped their conversations and were watching the exchange curiously.
Sirius grinned. "Who here would like to see my mate strip? Come on, ladies, he's single—"
There were several cheers, and Sirius turned to press something on the jukebox. For the second time that night, Lily heard the opening lines of "Cherry Pie". Sirius spread his hands and swiveled his hips mockingly, staring challengingly at James.
The latter sighed, shaking his head with a wry smile. "Sorry about this," he said to Lily, taking off his glasses. "Can you hold these for me?" Taking a few more gulps of his beer, he stood up from the table, facing the main floor of the pub. He fumbled for a moment with something at the front of his trousers, and next thing Lily knew, he'd whipped his belt off, throwing it onto the table behind him.
More cheers went up around the room at this, and Lily's hand flew to her mouth to hide a smile. Winking swiftly over his shoulder at her, James moved into the crowd, which parted before him as he advanced with a pelvis-thrusting walk that earned him several screams from a group of girls at the bar.
Stopping at a table in line with the door, James bent down beside a middle-aged woman. "Ma'am, do you mind if I borrow your water glass for a moment?" The woman seemed too surprised to do anything but nod, and James lifted the glass above his head, pouring its contents slowly over himself as he shook his head back and forth. Handing the glass back to its bewildered owner, he ran a hand through his hair and leaped onto the table itself.
This caught the attention of one of the bartenders, who called out in alarm, "Sir! Sir, you can't be up there!"
Ignoring him in favor of his increasingly appreciative audience, James began to inch his now wet shirt up his stomach, hips undulating all the while.
"Excuse me!" the bartender shouted, now indignant. "Sir, you can't—"
But his admonishment was abruptly cut short when James tossed his shirt straight into the man's face. Lily couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed this much. Just as James popped open the button on his jeans, however, the bouncer pushed his way through the crowd around the table. "All right, mate, let's go," he said, crossing his muscled arms.
James sized the man up, then turned back to the crowd with a shrug. "Show's over, folks."
Several disappointed cries met this announcement as James hopped down to the floor. Lily hurried over, lips shaking with the effort of not smiling as she handed James his belt and specs.
"Well, sorry to have to cut our evening short, Evans," he said as he placed the latter on his nose and started stringing the former through his jeans.
"Come on, Casanova," the bouncer said impatiently.
"Yeah, all right, mate, just give us two seconds, eh?" To Lily, "Don't think this means you're getting out of this friendship business, now. I'm determined to—"
"Come to the wedding with me," Lily said suddenly.
"What?"
"I don't have a date, and I was just planning to borrow Marlene's boyfriend for a few songs, but—" The bouncer grabbed James's arm, and the two started backing towards the door. Lily followed, snatching a napkin and pen off a nearby table and scribbling hastily on it. "Here—this is my phone number. The ceremony's at four. Unless you're busy, or don't want to, obviously—"
"I'll pick you up at three thirty," James said, crooked grin back in place. "Although I should warn you—I look devilishly handsome in a suit. It'd be best if you start preparing yourself now."
Lily smirked in return. "Well, you haven't seen my dress yet."
"Very true. Until tomorrow, then, Miss Evans."