Disclaimer:: I do not own any of the characters and the song is Meatloaf's 'Cheatin In Your Dreams.'
Just a merry Christmas one-shot written for Super Sarah. Enjoy.
Cheatin' In Your Dreams
How could you say there was no other,
why is it nothing's what it seems?
You told me I'm your greatest lover,
do you even know what that word means?
Your lovin' is coolin', baby who ya think you're foolin'?
'Cos when I woke up I caught you cheatin' in your dreams
When I woke up I caught you cheatin' in your dreams.
It was my dumb luck, I just came unstuck.
My whole world shook, I'd had about enough.
When I woke up, I caught you cheatin' in your dreams.
James, Lily decided, was incredibly cute when he mumbled in his sleep. She had often lain awake and simply watched him after they had officially 'tied the knot'. One of the bonuses of marrying Mr Potter had, in fact, been the sleeping arrangements and the fact that he didn't have any qualms about her putting her feet on his calves to warm them up which had pleased her immensely.
I digress.
Lily Evans had indeed become Mrs Lily Potter and had been for some time now, at least, it felt like they had been married for at least seven years because, looking back, quite a few of the fights they had had at school were considered 'lovers spats' by both their groups of friends. She thought she could, quite possibly, lie there all night watching him whilst he twitched in his sleep, occasionally his arm tightening around her or his brow creasing into a frown. She pushed herself up onto her elbows as she studied her husband. His messy hair was scruffier as he rubbed his head against the pillow every now and then. His hazel eyes were hidden behind closed eyelids and she suddenly had the very selfish urge to wake him up just to see him squint up at her and grin with that sparkle of life that he managed to maintain, even in dark times that were approaching steadily. She restrained herself, just barely, and brushed away his fringe from his forehead. One thing about James Clarence Potter that was quite intriguing was that he was such a deep sleeper. When Lily had found this out she had been astonished, having lived in a dormitory with the Marauders for seven years, Lily had been quite certain that all of them would sleep light to prepare for any nasty waking pranks that might be pulled in the early hours of the morning.
He shifted slightly in his sleep and she smiled softly in the dim light that fell into the bedroom from the lamplight outside. She really did love him. Sometimes, if she dwelt on it, she was rather scared by how much she loved him. The red head was pulled from her drowsy thoughts as her husband mumbled something from beyond the land of dreams.
"That's so good, flower."
Lily smirked, one of /those/ dreams. Sniggering slightly and smirking down at her peacefully dreaming husband, she bit back a snort as he smacked his lips together. The familiar feeling of feminine smugness uncoiled in her stomach, knowing that she, and she alone, could still make her husband have dreams about her. She settled back on his chest, closing her weary eyes as she prepared for sleep. With more mumbled groaning from her male counter-part, Lily settled down to the steady rise and fall of his chest as her own breathing slowed.
"Wow, Poppy."
Woah, woah, woah.
Her eyes shot open, and she realised she had stopped breathing. Was James dreaming about…about her mother?!
No, no, no! She blinked, finally drawing breath as she pushed herself back up onto her elbows, suddenly feeling very awake as she studied his face quickly, suspicion heavy in her eyes as she waited for the next audible mutter to come from his lips.
"Do you want some, Lil? …Plenty to go 'round."
Her eyes widened in absolute shock and then she glared down at her husband. The great, dirty perve! Was he dreaming about a … threesome with her and her mother?! She almost gagged at the mere thought. Shuddering slightly, she almost missed the twitch in his lip. The prat was smiling in his dream? Her glare intensified as she considered punching him squarely in the jaw just to wipe the smirk of his face. As if the bloody dream wasn't bad enough, it was Christmas tomorrow and they would have to be sat around her family's table with James thinking…God, she didn't want to know what he was thinking. It was then that a voice broke her from her sickening thoughts.
"Anyone for seconds?"
That was it. It really was the last straw. 'Anyone for seconds?' Who did he think he was, Casanova?! Wrenching his arm from around her waist she grabbed the pillow from her side of the bed which she had discarded in preference for James' chest and proceeded to whack him anywhere she could reach.
"You." Smack. "Dirty." Whack. "Bugger." Thwack.
Of course, this would've woken anyone up, even a deep sleeper like James. With a startled cry and something resembling a snort, his eyes opened to face an enraged Lily Evans smacking him fiercely with a pillow before she knelt back in order to give him an icy glare that he didn't think would ever be shot his way again after sixth year. He blinked in surprise at the nasty look she was giving him. He wondered faintly whether she was playing a game. That thought was shot down almost immediately as she shook her head at him and pursed her lips.
She looked undeniably sexy sat there, her nightdress rumpled and riding up her thighs. Her red hair mussed from sleep and a dangerous glint in her eyes. He rubbed his eyes quickly with the back of his hand and gave a yawn. He squinted at the clock on his right hand side.
"L-Lily? What's wrong, it's…bloody hell! It's 3.30, Lil."
His eyes began dropping as he struggled to stay awake.
"Do you have some freaky tradition in your family of getting up at stupid o'clock?" He asked with a grin directed her way. This, however, seemed to be the wrong answer as she threw the pillow at him once more with a strangled, indignant cry, twisted off the bed and grabbed the spare blanket from the rocking chair in the corner of the room before wrenching him out of bed.
"Up." He stood, clad in boxers and a buttoned pyjama shirt, pulled out of bed by Lily's hand in his. He yawned again, too tired to understand what was going on. "Out." Once out side the bedroom door, he turned to Lily and gave a sleepy smile, however she didn't look happy at all. He frowned, suddenly awake.
"Lil? What's wron.."
"You can sleep on the couch." She cut him off icily, gesturing towards the blanket and the cushion he had cuddled to his chest as he had climbed out of bed. His eyes widened and he blinked in shock.
"Sorry?" He started laughing, out of pure surprise.
"You heard."
"Stop joking, Lil. We have to be up early to get to your Mother's tomorrow." He said, truly mystified at her behavior and tried to step past her to get back into the bedroom.
"What part don't you understand? You. Can. Sleep. On. The. Couch. Is it the sleeping? Or the couch part?" She asked angrily, her fists clenched at her side, tilting her head back to show him that no, she wasn't joking and no he wasn't allowed back into bed.
"Erm…do you want to run the whole thing past me again? I really don't understand why I have to sleep on the couch. It's Christmas Eve, well, Christmas actually. What's wrong?" He asked, truly confused and becoming more than a little irritated at her mystifying behavior. He reached out to stroke her cheek and she leant somewhat into his touch, weakening for a brief instant. "What's wrong, flower?" Her eyes shot open, remembering why, exactly, they were stood out on the landing at 3.30 in the morning, and instead of seeing the affection usually present in those emerald depths, he was startled to see more anger than before. Slapping his hand away she exhaled through her nose and crossed her arms.
"Maybe the answer will come to you in your dreams, you dodgy pervert!" And with that she shot one more nasty look at him before slamming the door in his face and leaving him blinking in the hallway. Slumping down the stairs, he shot a hurt look at the closed door on the landing before sinking into the sofa with the blanket pulled tight over him.
What had he possibly done to make her so cross?
He racked his brains over the previous evening as he thought why she had gone to bed perfectly happy and then had woken up in a foul mood. Maybe he had started snoring? Surely she wouldn't get worked up over something like that, though? He frowned. He knew he could be a vocal sleeper sometimes, Padfoot had told him often enough at school to stop murmuring how he 'wanted to hold you [Lily and never let go' in his sleep so that the other boys could get some shut-eye. So what had hacked her off?
They had fallen asleep, she had been on his chest (like normal, he reasoned), he had had a very pleasant dream about Christmas. If he remembered rightly he had dreamt about dinner at the Evans' tomorrow and…
Realisation hit him as he thought over the dream. He began to laugh, not loud enough so that his angry wife would hear and come and hex him, but just enough that he managed to dispel any hard feelings that he had about sleeping on the couch. He turned in his makeshift bed to lay on his back and look up at the closed door once more, putting his hands behind his head as he chuckled.
"Oh, Lil. You are funny."
The next day at the Evans' house, Lily sat as far away from her husband as possible, shooting dark looks his way every so often, which had, thankfully, gone unnoticed by the rest of the people gathered there. Meanwhile James couldn't bring himself to look at his wife, his mother-in-law or her fabulous home-made Christmas pudding for fear of bursting out in hysterical laughter at his wife's over-active imagination. But, typically, he just couldn't resist one comment as he polished off his bowl of dessert.
"Poppy, this Christmas pudding is the stuff dreams are made of."
