A/N: This is actually an enrichment of a scene from Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid, so I can't take any creative credit. I've replaced descriptions of Robert Redford's and Katharine Ross' characters with descriptions of Hermione and Severus, but I suppose you could imagine it to be anyone you wanted. This story hasn't been betaed either, so all mistakes are mine, and if you feel the need to point them out to me, you're more than welcome. Enjoy! - Maggie.

She opened the door to her bedroom and walked over to the rocking chair in the corner. The rays of moonlight sifting through the windows made her realize how alone she really was, way out here on the prairie, but she ignored it. Since moving into this house three years ago she had learned to tune it out. She put her books down in the rocker and took off her jacket, hanging it nicely over the back of the chair, and kicked off her shoes. With the knowledge of habit, she began to undo the top few buttons of her blouse in the dark and turned to walk towards her vanity so she could brush her hair. She froze.

There was a man leaning against the wall right next to the vanity. He had the languid pose and tense, lean frame of a gunslinger, with his hat tilted down over his eyes so that it obscured his face. She looked him up and down. A most certainly shady character, she thought to herself, taking in his worn, dirty boots, dusty clothing, and immaculate gun belt, complete with one gleaming pistol and a winding row of glistening bullets that was slanted down over his waist.

"Don't stop," he said. His voice was soft, masculine, and sent chills down her spine with its control.

She heard him, but didn't continue with her blouse. After a moment, he slowly raised his head and she could see finally see his face. She could also see the gun that he was holding in his hand, the twin to the one in the gun belt, the one aimed directly at her.

"I said, 'don't stop'," he repeated quietly. She stared at him. With the brim of his hat out of the way, a beam of moonlight now streaked across his neck, hitting him first in the side of the face and trailing out of sight over his shoulder. He was handsome and frightening with dark hair that fell ever so slightly into piercing dark eyes. He had rich lips and a strong jaw that was in need of a shave. The muscles of his face were set, displaying no emotion whatsoever. Goosebumps began to creep across her skin.

The gun was still pointed at her as she continued to unbutton her blouse, taking as long as she could and never looking away from the black pools of his eyes. When the last button was undone she let her hands fall down at her sides.

"Take it off." The blouse slid down her back and pooled about her ankles. "And the bra." She reached behind her, undid the clasp, and shrugged it off her shoulders. He gestured at her skirt with the muzzle of his pistol. Her fingers found the buttons at the waist and began undoing first them, then the zipper. The skirt fell noiselessly down to the blouse on the floor.

"Stockings. Now." He didn't seem to be breathing. She peeled her stockings off, along with her panties. "Hair." His voice shook slightly. She reached up and pulled the pins out of her rich brown hair, which, once freed, spilled down over her naked shoulders.

For a moment, he just looked at her. Then slowly, he rose from the wall and walked toward her with the silence and grace of a tiger ready to spring. As he walked the gun passed through a beam of moonlight and lit up like the flame of a candle. She had begun to sweat. When he reached her he put the gun directly between her eyes, not close enough to touch but close enough for her to feel the cold radiating from the metal.

He began to trail the gun down her face leaving chills in its wake as it brushed against the small hairs on her face. She watched him trail the gun down over her nose, her lips, her chin, down her neck, between her breasts, and over her stomach. Partway down it paused and she gasped as she felt the full cold of the metal against her skin as the muzzle of the gun pushed into her navel. She took her eyes off the gun and looked up at him. His face was unmoved, but his eyes were burning. She began to tremble as the gun removed itself from her navel and continued down.

"Do you know what I wish?" she hissed.

"What?"

"That just once you'd get here on time!"