Chapter 10

August 9, 1976

Gingerly, Sirius lifted his leg and swung it across the vast motorbike so that he straddled the leather. He edged his way across the smooth, leather seat and hunched his back so that he was sitting at nearly a 30 degree angle. Slowly, as though to savor the moment, Sirius glided his reverent fingers up the silken neck of the bike until his fingertips brushed along the cylindrical metal and slowly slid up to the slick handlebars. He squeezed gently, caressingly, just once to get a feel for it.

The night air was still except for the sweet humming of the bike whirling underneath him. His eyes flittered close as he took a deep breath to try to calm the excitement brewing inside of him. Looking out again, Sirius tightened his grip on the handlebars and urged the bike forward.

He could feel the pulse. His heart drummed as his muscles throbbed.

Somewhere across the building, someone slammed a door shut.

Sirius jumped. Startled, his body flung backwards; his legs rose and buckled. His hands left the handlebars, and Sirius was forced to cling to the leather seat to make sure that he did not fall flat on his face onto the curb.

Half a second went by before Sirius was able to analyze his position. Correcting the pretzel of limbs he had created, he removed himself from his still immobile and unfixed motorbike and trampled to the safety of the curb.

Feeling extremely humiliated, Sirius quickly sent furtive looks over both his shoulders to make sure that no one had witnessed his little mishap. It was pathetic enough that he missed riding his motorbike so much that he was taking pretend joyrides, but jumping up like a girl was inexcusable.

He hurriedly scanned the empty parking lot as he shoved his hands deeply into his pockets, pulling out a packet of cigarettes. He tore out the closest available cigarette, lit it, and then inhaled. The smoke helped calm him down, though it did not make him feel any less the fool.

Sirius scuffed his boots along the curb as he leaned back, practically carelessly against the rough wall with his white t-shirt. Sirius stared out at the dark sky as he inhaled another puff of smoke from his blazing cigarette. The stars shone brighter here at this tiny pimple on the side of the highway than at the highly sought over neighborhood where his flat was located in London.

It had been a long time since Sirius had looked up at the stars for pure wonder's sake; studying Astronomy seemed to take all the mystery out of it.

If Sirius believed in anything, it was probably his own insignificance in the grand scheme of things.

Of course, if asked, he would say that the universe merely revolved around him.

He looked up at the sky and effortlessly picked out the Dog Star, shining mockingly bright overhead. Sirius rolled his eyes. Only the Black family would be self-important enough to name its descendents after stars.

The star could have already died. He just didn't know it because it took so long for the image to get back. Ruddy stars. He took another drag and then blew it out leisurely, watching the way the smoke blurred around the stars as it left his mouth.

"Howling at the moon, Trouble?"

"Really not," Sirius replied, sounding amused by the very idea.

"Well, no, I reckon you've got another night before it turns full," Eliza mused as she looked up at the sky. She was wearing Sirius's leather jacket, which she wrapped tightly around herself. Sirius realized for the first time all night that it was rather chilly; his arms had goosebumps. "What are you doing out here? I haven't seen you all day."

Sirius shrugged.

"You can't be thinking; you'd have been done in about twenty seconds."

Sirius turned to give her a scathing look.

"Yes, yes, I know. Right prodigy, you are. Get inside."

"Not hungry." It was a lie, of course. Sirius had spent the majority of his day in his flat, and he still had not made any improvements to the dining options available there.

"Did I say you had to eat? I just said to come inside."

"Eating seems to be a prerequisite with your family, Skip."

Eliza grinned. "You should see us at Christmas."

Sirius inhaled the cigarette again. The orange glow at the end was the only thing keeping the two from being immersed in the darkness of the parking lot, which was lit only by one unreliable streetlamp.

"C'mon, Sirius. It's pretty chilly for summer, and it's dark as anything. My shift will be over in about a half an hour. You can help me close up."

When Sirius didn't say anything, Eliza tiptoed along the curb so that she was standing directly in front of him. Smiling, she changed tactics. "Besides, Mum's not feeling too well so Dad and Johnny are taking her home and leaving me to hold the fort and then drive myself home."

Though he tried not to show it, Sirius definitely perked up at the mention of her brother's absence.

"Knew that'd get a response," she said, sounding thoroughly pleased with herself. Sirius rolled his eyes but nevertheless threw his cigarette to the ground and stomped on it with his boot.

"When are they leaving?"

"In about five minutes."

"I'll be inside in six."

Indeed, the night was dark, but Sirius could still easily see her pretty face sporting a wide beam.

Eliza turned around began her pas de bourrée towards the front entrance to the diner.

After Sirius had counted to sixty six times over and had made sure the old, whining Volkswagen that Boyd drove had puffed and jittered its way out of the parking lot, Sirius shuffled into the diner.

A piece of chocolate crème pie was waiting for him at his booth. Sirius rolled his eyes but unearthed the fork from his napkin anyway.

"Can't resist," Eliza teased as she strode by in her apron with a tray laden with empty dishes in her hands.

"It's good pie," Sirius murmured.

"It's the best pie," Eliza corrected him with a pivot turn as she flounced right back in the previous direction to hand a couple their check.

"There you are, Mr. and Mrs. Iverson," Sirius could hear her say brightly. "Anything else I can get you? No? Well, have a fantastic night. I hope everything works out with your son's new girlfriend. If all else fails, just tell him she looks like matrimony material, and he'll have chucked her faster than you can say 'buttercream.' Yes, yes, good night!"

Sirius shook his head in amusement and ate another forkful of pie.

By the time he had finished his slice, Eliza had shooed the last customer from the diner. He had been about twenty years old, and Sirius had noticed that the bloke had not looked like he had wanted to leave. Sirius was fairly certain that the bloke had even written down something onto Eliza's check because when she picked it up, she colored and started flattening her fringe.

Sirius probably should not have been so surprised that Eliza received this sort of attention. After all, she was a moderately attractive girl. Nevertheless, Sirius felt better when he spotted Eliza crumple the piece of paper and throw it in the rubbish bin, murmuring to herself and shaking her head.

"Not your type?" Sirius heard himself asking before he could stop himself.

Eliza shrugged cheerfully. "I'm not allowed to date customers. Diner policy and Johnny enforced."

Sirius sat back in his booth.

"Besides, he didn't want any dessert. What kind of bloke doesn't want to try my pie?"

"Completely undeserving berk. You were right to be rid of him."

"Thank you," she replied with an indignant nod of her head.

"Now, get up, Trouble! If I'm stuck closing up, you're at least going to help me. I'll wash. You dry." She threw a towel at Sirius, and he caught it before it hit the floor.

Sirius had never seen so many dirty dishes in his life. He had no idea how the Boyd family managed to create such a mess. There were pots and pans strewn along all the counters in the kitchen, intermixed with dirty cups, plates, and silverware from the customers.

"Not too bad," Eliza remarked optimistically. "Must have been an off night."

Sirius stared incredulously at her back as she skipped over to the sink and started scrubbing a large pot.

Largely due to Eliza's influence – "I've been washing dishes since I was able to climb on top of a step stool, Trouble. You should try it once in your life. For someone who is all independent and doesn't need anyone, you sure don't know how to do anything." – they were able to clean the kitchen in a relatively quick amount of time.

However, Eliza informed Sirius that they still had to clean up the counter, mop the floor, count the money in the cash register, and wipe down all the tables. "I just don't see how you can possibly do this every day," Sirius thought aloud as he guided the wet mop along the tiled floor.

"You get used to it," Eliza sang back serenely from behind the cash register where she kept her eyes focused on the bills she was totaling.

"It's easier when everyone else is here. Mum and Dad usually do the dishes, and Johnny does the floor."

"It seems like too much work to deal with all the time." "Well, how do you suggest we afford to live?" Eliza asked. "I don't really fancy homelessness. Cardboard boxes have never really agreed with me, yeah?"

Sirius pushed the mop down again in silence. He had a huge pile of gold just waiting for him underground. He'd never had a job. His own father hadn't even worked; he just invested into different things and occasionally visited the Ministry of Magic to ensure that certain favorable policies were passed.

"Well, this is no good," Eliza harrumphed. "What?" "I'm two pounds short. I've counted like six times now."

"Oh! That's me! I didn't pay for my pie." Eliza waved him away. "On the house," she insisted. "I think it was that bloke who gave me his number. Bloody prat – an up and coming lawyer, my bum! I knew he was trouble."

Sirius shifted uncomfortably with the mop in his hand.

"Oh!" Eliza breathed as she turned to look at him. "Not, like you, Sirius. I just meant, well-that he's the bad kind of trouble."

Sirius was sorely tempted to ask what kind of trouble he was, but he resisted.

After a brief argument, Sirius had given Eliza the two pounds she was short and then continued to mop the floor as she started wiping down tables.

It was a quarter past eleven by the time they both sank down into his booth.

Eliza leaned her face forward and ran her fingers from her face all the way through her hair. She had stripped off her yellow apron with the red trimming and replaced it with his black leather jacket.

It really did not make sense for them both to be sitting there when they could be both heading on their way home; yet, there they sat. Neither teen seemed to have the ability nor the desire to move.

"I'm exhausted." Sirius hummed back in agreement, though she looked like she was handling the extreme fatigue far better than he. His body was failing him pathetically – and, as a red-blooded teenage boy, he was supposed to be immune to such human indignities as the need to sleep. Yet, his current, strongest desire was to collapse onto the unmade bed waiting for him at his flat and fall asleep while still wearing his clothes. Unfortunately, his legs were so pleased to be sitting down that they would not let him get up.

"I think you're down for the count, Sergeant Trouble," Eliza remarked through her fingertips.

Sirius rolled his eyes and sank farther into the teal, vinyl seat.

Eliza looked up at the ticking clock located on the wall behind the counter. "I was supposed to be home five minutes ago," she mused dully. "Johnny'll probably call the police soon. The fire trucks will come next. I hope the sirens don't wake up Old Lady Jenkins down the street. She can get quite cross." Instead of seeming concerned by this, Eliza merely straightened out her fringe across her forehead. "Lovely." "Mmm." "One of these days I'm going to take a holiday someplace warm. Maybe I'll go to the Caribbean. I've always wanted to learn to dance the tango."

"Better off going to Spain for that."

"Oh. Well, they have beaches too. Besides, shorter commute."

"Exactly."

"So that's settled then. By the way, I solved world hunger and figured out the meaning of life when you were mopping the floor. I guess there's not much left to do here tonight." Slowly, Eliza lifted her head, which had been resting on the table, and straightened out her back. She looked at the door and then at Sirius, repeating the pattern several times.

Sirius watched her questioningly as she fiddled very anxiously with the gold locket hanging from her neck. He had never seen her so out of sorts before. It seemed that her nerves had reached a point beyond incessant babbling – something Sirius did not know was possible for her. Though, for the life of him, Sirius could not figure out what could possibly make her so uneasy. He simply sat stilly and watched Eliza, who was wearing a dazed expression as she stared at what appeared to be his forearms and continued to twiddle with her locket.

Finally, after about two minutes had passed, she seemed to make up her mind because, taking a deep breath, she looked up at him with a look of shaky determination etched onto her face. Suddenly, she braced the table with her hands and stood up.

Sirius stayed unflinchingly still as he waited for her to announce her departure.

Instead, however, he found himself quite astonished when Eliza slid into the booth next to him. Sirius straightened up immediately and backed away slightly.

"What are you – ?" He was silenced when Eliza placed a small hand onto his chest.

"Don't freak out. I have to do something very important, and it's essential that you just accept that and understand that it's inevitable. Because really, it's been completely overdue, and if I don't do something about it soon, I'm 87 percent certain that my internal organs will implode, and we already mopped the floor tonight. Plus, then I'd be dead, and that doesn't sound very fun. The police would come. They'd have to investigate. Johnny would kill you, so you'd be dead too. Then Johnny'd have to go to jail. Mum'll turn into a right mess. I can't do that to Dad. The whole ordeal just seems far too exhausting. So, yes, I'd be really grateful if you'd just go along with this."

"What?"

"Now would be a really great time for your famous Mr. Taciturn routine."

Sirius stayed frozen to the spot as he watched Eliza lean in so closely that he could see every tiny freckle on her nose. Her lips tasted like cherry chapstick.

After a moment, or two, or three, they broke apart.

Eliza opened her eyes with excruciating slowness, as though she were savoring the moment. "I knew you'd be trouble," she breathed to herself.

A second passed before she looked up at Sirius, anxiety evident on her face. "Was that okay? I didn't mean to – it's just that I feel like you're – well, we've seemed to really – God, you must think I'm a complete slag – sorry, I've overstepped – but you did want to kiss me, didn't you? – I mean – boys like that, don't they? – you 're not gay, are you? – Oh, God, of course you're not. I'm sorry. That was stupid. I'm stupid. I should just go – "

Sirius cradled the left side of her face with his hand. "Eliza, shut up."

Looking downwards and thoroughly distraught, Eliza sucked on her lips hesitantly before Sirius guided her sad face towards his and slowly kissed her until she smiled.

A/N: give your dad a hug.

tell your mom you love her.

ask your siblings how their day went.

fall asleep in your own bed.

be happy.

"And so, when a person meets the half that is his very own, whatever his orientation, whether it's two young men or not, then something wonderful happens: the two are struck from their senses by love, by a sense of belonging to one another, and by desire and they don't want to be separated from one another, not even for a moment."

yours,

molly