AN: Thanks to the fabulous anti_social_ite. My beta, friend and fellow Who!obsessee :)

There were very few things she hated as much as she did hate waiting. As a matter of fact come to think of it, she couldn't come up with anything she hated more than waiting. She was one of those people who could scarcely manage to sit still for half an hour, always busy, always trying to make the most of her days. Now all she could do was wait until he finally woke up. The healers had given her little cause for hope that that would happen anytime soon, but she refused to give up.

She had been released a couple of days ago and had taken a lot of persuasion to at least get her to go home and pack a few things before she return to resume her wake at his bedside. Abigail had hastily stuffed her belongings into a backpack, without caring whether the clothes she randomly ripped from their hangers actually matched. Then she had hurried down the stairs, pausing only briefly at their bottom. When she had taken stock about a week ago hadn't there been a book about dreams and subconscious use of magic, she had wondered.

Now she was sitting by his bedside again, leafing through said book, a frown on her face. Most of what it said was complete and utter rubbish. There existed a lot of theories about subconscious magic use, most of which were rather pseudo-scientific and probably cooked up by some bored housewife who wanted to add meaning to her otherwise meaningless life by interpreting things into dreams that weren't really there. Romantic drivel about white knights in shining armours, destinies entwined and eventually fulfilled – maybe she was a cynic, maybe too much had happened, but she was having a lot of trouble believing that.

"If you were awake, we'd probably have a good laugh about all this," she said quietly, as she closed the book and laid it on his bedside table. "There are just as full of crap as those people who think Divination anything other than a complete waste of time."

As usually he showed no reaction whatsoever. He was just lying there, completely still. Only the regular up and down motion of his ribcage reassured her that he was still alive. His face still had an unhealthy parlour, but not as much though as a few days ago.

"I'm not sure how much more of this I can take," she whispered with downcast eyes. Then an amusing thought hit her, the corners of her mouth ever so slightly curved upward. "One might think I'm actually a pretty annoying person. Everybody I care about pulls a Sleeping Beauty on me, just to escape my constant babble, it seems. But hey, tough luck. I'm still talking to you, aren't I?" Just after the words had left her mouth, she wrinkled her nose in a dissatisfied manner, shook her head, then rubbed her hands over her face tiredly.

"Merlin, what am I doing? I'm starting to sound borderline insane." She got up from her chair and started pacing. These days her trousers were sitting a bit looser, her features were a little more edged, because she often skipped meals. The shadows under her eyes were telltale signs of many nights spent waking. Her clothes were crumbled up from sitting too long, but also because she didn't bother to iron them. Her thoughts always evolved around him, when she wasn't with him she did everything in a hurry just to get back. Applying make-up slowed her down, as did cooking or having a brief lie-down, so she simply didn't do it.

"The thing is … if I don't talk there's going to be this silence…this bloody damn maddening silence, you know." She stopped walking back and forth and watched him for a while. There was a lump in her throat, which she unsuccessfully tried to swallow down. Her voice cracked a little when she continued talking. "I wish I knew what to do. I wish I could do something, but I'm quite useless really. All I can do is sit and wait. And God knows that's not a lot. Oh, and of course, crying. I've done my share of that, thank you very much. Which is oh so pathetic and senseless, I'm quite aware of that. But what else is there to do? What else…" Her eyes wandered from his sleeping form to the window. The branches of an oak were rocking back and forth in front of it slowly. For a while she watched in childlike wonder, but then broke out of her momentary daze to resume her previous place next to his bed.

"Can't you just do me this one small favour and hurry back? I know you're not used to doing favours, but can't you make one small exception?" She wasn't really expecting an answer. She wasn't really expecting anything.

His hands were resting above the covers, long slender white fingers that were disquietingly motionless. She reached out and took his left hand in hers. Her fingers tenderly stroked over the back of his hand, his knuckles, the tips of his fingers.

*

He awoke slowly. As if slowly crawling out of a pitch black cave towards the light his consciousness gradually resurfaced from deep sleep. Before he even opened his eyes, the dulled and distant ache of his healing wounds made itself known and reassured him that this was in fact reality. He blinkingly opened his eyes. Everything was unfocused, offensively white and smelling of disinfectants. So this was definitely not the afterlife then, but rather some hospital or a rather shabby but clean part of Heaven. He experimentally moved his fingers and found that they still obeyed his command. He was rather pleased.

There was a weight on his left hand. He moved his head cautiously to see Abigail who was still holding his hand as she lay sleeping in what looked like a rather uncomfortable position. She was sitting in her chair bent over so that she could at least rest her head on his bed. Her fingers were curled possessively around his hand even in her sleep.

He gave them a soft squeeze, oblivious to the fact that this small gesture would be enough to wake her from her sleep. She sleepily sat up in her chair, the creases of the bed linen imprinted on her cheek. Her eyes met his questioningly, then widened impossibly.

"You're awake," she whispered. "You're awake!" It broke out of her as a cry of relief when she said it a second time. She was flustered and her eyes were bright and watery with unshed tears, but in spite of it she was smiling, beaming even. She had never been happier in her life. She wanted to hug him, kiss him, but her forwards motion was stopped by the tube of the IV-drip that was running into his arm. Her eyes searched his, asking for permission. He was surprised to see her so hesitant, after all that had happened between them, at the same time realizing that most of had just been an illusion. So that was probably why. He gave her slow nod, even dared to smile a little. She softly smiled in response and cautiously leaned over to press a lingering kiss to his temples. He closed his eyes savouring the sensation of her lips against his skin, which made him feel comforted and at home, at least momentarily.

She drew back all too soon and announced in a voice a shaky voice that she was going to call the healer. He could practically already see all that little wheels inside her head spinning. She was beginning to feel insecure and self-conscious. It was rather obvious by the way she was acting, all jittery and nervous.

He wasn't one for whispered messages of reassurance of love, but nevertheless he felt the need to calm her. "If you'd kindly stop worrying yourself over nothing, dear, you'd actually realize, that we're going to be fine." His voice was surprisingly clear even though he had slept so long.

She was momentarily taken aback by his brusqueness, but than the meaning of his words managed to get through to her and she smiled at him.

*

Severus Snape was about to ask out a woman on a date for the first time in his life. Not just any woman, though, mind you, the woman whose presence made facing each day more tolerable for him and yet she had the power of turning his existence into living hell if she pleased just as easily. Surprisingly this was something that also attracted him to her. She had the odd talent of making the worries that occupied his mind appear ridiculous and she could weather his temper like no one before. He knew a lot about her already, but it didn't seem enough to him. And he had the sneaking suspicion that this feeling wouldn't change however long he knew her.

Knowing all that about her, made it all the more difficult for him to actually ask her out. It made him nervous and above all frustrated him, because each time the opportune moment presented itself, he shied away from asking.

He had the distinct feeling, however, that he needed to ask her or at least signal his interest in her in some way, because ever since he had awoken she had kept a certain distance. Although she spent a lot of time sitting at his bedside, chatting away merrily, she never took his hand in hers anymore. She shied away from physical contact, though he knew for a fact that she desired it thanks to the way her fingers would sometimes twitch treacherously when her hand was lying next to his. What was different now? What was she waiting for? He had asked himself those questions repeatedly and had come up with only one possible answer. Reassurance. She needed some kind of sign that his interest in her hadn't faded, that whatever relationship they had had not just been an illusion.

Now that he had been released from that blasted hellhole that regular people called a hospital, he was finally free to act accordingly. Having recovered from his injuries he also felt up to the task, at least now he would be able to walk about without feeling dizzy. Or maybe not. Her presence sometimes did make him feel dizzy, but in the most pleasant way imaginable.

Oh, rubbish! Since when had he become that appallingly sentimental to actually call dizziness pleasant? He was still cursing his own foolishness under his breath when had reached Diagon Alley and came to stand in front of her bookshop. For some odd reason he was hesitant to enter. Beyond this door a crucial turning point was awaiting him. Either this experience would turn out to be the biggest disappointment of his adult life or it would allow him a glimpse into a future he had not dared hope for – not anymore. Merlin, this had to stop! He was turning into a blithering, pitiful romantic sod.

Unexpectedly the door in front of him suddenly swung open. Startled he looked up to see Abigail standing in front of him with a grin on her face.

"Hi!" She grinned. "You look surprised to see me. You do remember this is my shop, don't you? So by all accounts, you shouldn't be surprised to see me here."

"I was contemplating entering," he remarked glaring at her disapprovingly. She was teasing him and he didn't particularly like the feeling of being the butt of the joke, especially when he was nervous.

"Oh, alright then. Shall I leave you to it then? Though I'd suggest you continue your musings over there," she pointed to the shop window to their right. "You're blocking the entrance and above all it's somewhat disconcerting having a black shadow hovering in front of your door."

The cheek! He had the sneaking suspicion that she was trying to wind him up on purpose. Two could play that game. An evil glimmer sparkled in his eyes when he said the next words. "Charming! Is that how you treat most of your costumers? No small wonder more and more people give up on reading."

She entirely stepped out of the door, an amused grin on her face. Although she was effectively invading his personal space, he didn't care to step aside. From this proximity he could clearly make out the soft laughter lines forming around a pair of eyes that was sparkling at him enticingly. When she flipped back her hair he could smell her shampoo, see the exposed white skin of her neck. He licked his lips, suddenly feeling his mouth go dry.

"Do I make you nervous?" she asked mirthfully.

"Don't be so vain. Your presence is hardly that awe-inspiring."

"Maybe I should relieve you from it then." Abby said casually.

"That would be most kind," he heard himself say, while his inner voice let out a scream of frustration. This situation was turning out entirely different than he had wanted to. He was messing this up thoroughly. What surprised him, though, was the fact that she hadn't moved an inch in the meantime.

"Alright. Fine. Let me sum up the situation very briefly. You came here to see me, because let's face it, if you wanted a book you could just as easily stay at Hogwarts which, I hear, has a very fine library. Then you lost your nerve and chose insult me instead of doing whatever it was you came to do. Does that about cover it?" She looked at him curiously with her head tilted to the left.

Instinctively he would have denied everything, because her assessment of the situation was frighteningly close to the truth, but fortunately he did give his answer some thought this time around. So instead of putting his foot in his mouth again, he actually managed to say something halfway nice, at least by his standards. "Though not entirely an adequate assessment…"

She rolled her eyes at him, effectively keeping him from finishing the sentence. However, it was rather a gesture of mock annoyance than of the genuine kind. "Please, Severus, not that again. I appreciate the effort, but honestly by this rate we won't get anywhere till we're both old geezers, so I'll make this easy for you, because we've been through this excruciating courtship period once before. And once was already more than enough, thank you very much."

He looked at her in puzzlement, but could do nothing but nod in confusion as she calmly continued. "If you came here say to ask me whether I wanted to go on a date with you, the answer would be a definite 'yes', although keep in mind that right now we're just talking hypothetically and my answer is of course also hypothetical as well."

So she did actually want to hear him say the words out loud. He swallowed hard, then summed up enough courage to finally ask her. "Alright then. Fine. You wouldn't mind if I called on you from time to time, would you?" His words had not been particularly polite, as a matter of fact he sounded rather bored. But his usual façade of self-effacement was more transparent to her than he thought. The way he regarded her now, almost anxiously, did not escape her notice.

She smiled, effectively shattering his fears. "Would I mind? Are you daft? Of course, I want to spend some time with you. About bloody time you asked too."

He allowed a relieved smile to creep over his countenance as well. "You didn't seem so inclined…"

"I wanted to give you time to make up your mind." Her words were soft spoken, but standing so close to her, he could hear them very well.

"There would have been no need. My mind was already made up from the start," he answered his voice equally low and confidential.

"Well," there was an emotional quiver in her voice, "then I have you know there are a couple of other things to which I'd answer with a definite 'yes' as well."

"Being?" There was a slight edge of panic to his voice. When woman said things like that they were usually alluding to something particular. The one day they all dream of. When they finally get a decent excuse to dress like a crème buff and stuff obscene amounts of cake down there throats. He shivered visibly at the thought.

It didn't take long until she realized she had put her foot in her mouth once again. She blushed. "Don't panic. I wasn't taking about that particular question."

"You weren't?" Great, now he sounded offended. Did she interpret the look of horror wrong or was it just that he tended to take just about everything the wrong way.

"Not that it would be such a bad thing," she hastily tried to back-paddle. "Just that…well, right now…with all the stuff going on and that other stuff we've just been through…" Oh, yes! Very smooth! How breathtakingly eloquent!

He had the grace to smirk at her ever so slightly. "I think you should better stop before this gets anymore embarrassing…for you."

"Smug bastard," she mumbled, but not without suppressing a grin.

"Harpy," he muttered.

"So, nice you've dropped by. I can't remember when trading insults has ever been that much fun."

"Yes, this is rather productive so far."

"So, enough with the stalling already - are you now going to ask your questions? …Well, just not obviously that one, you know."

"You're not making things easier this way." He looked at her with a frown.

"Not right now. No. I'm well aware of that. But I'm fed up with this situation. It's going nowhere. So ask away. At least we'll finally know where we're standing. It's less tiresome that way, don't you think?"

"You don't seem to want to waste anymore time." He looked at her with narrowed eyes. It was not a disapproving look as such he was just trying to figure out what was going on in that head of hers.

"Yes, I'd say we've already wasted enough time. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes," he admitted finally.

So after a couple of seconds had passed in tense silence he finally asked his first question. It was a comparatively harmless one and just meant to test the waters. "Do I seem changed to you, I mean compared to…"

"You mean compared to the person I got to know in the dream? No," she paused. "Do I?"

"No."

Upon that they exchanged shy smiles. By the time he asked his next question she was nervously picking at her nails, while his palms had turned cold and sweaty.

"Do you love me?" Wow, this question was rather straightforward, but she didn't hesitate to answer.

"Yes."

"Yes?" he seemed surprised. Any other man would have probably been showering her with kisses by now, but he was too rational and more importantly too reserved, to be doing just that. She had to be patient and wait until he came around. His readiness to play this straightforward game of answer and question was already a great concession from his side. She didn't want to push her luck, but she couldn't have sat around for another month or so until things would have worked out on their own. She was fed up with waiting! However, to at least accommodate him a little, she bravely fought down the urge to direct the same question at him.

"Any other question? Ask away?" The way he looked at her left her with a feeling of nervous giddiness. She could see he needed to work up quite a lot of courage for the next one.

"Yes, actually there is," he cleared his throat nervously. "Do you still want to be with me?"

"Yes." Again no hesitation from her side.

He didn't know whatever devil drove him to ask the next question, how he had suddenly gone from asking her for something as casual as a date to taken their relationship to the next level. "It's not too early to ask you to come live with me, is it?" He waited for the feeling of panic to set in, but it simply wouldn't come. He really wanted this, he discovered to his surprise. All the more anxious it made him to wait for her answer.

She hadn't expected him to ask something like that. This was Severus Snape after all. As a matter of fact, she would have expect him to ask that particular question no early than about one decade in the future or probably even later, when they both were old and wrinkly. No, come to think of it, if she was truly honest with herself, she hadn't thought he would ask her at all. Ever.

"I should have known. It was a foolish thing to ask really…," he was about to continue, but fell silent when he heard her soft spoken 'yes'. For a while he looked at her in utter, complete shock and ere he could question whether he had really heard her agree, she was kissing him, her hands digging into the fabric of his black robes possessively as if she never wanted to let go of him ever again. And yes, his façade finally slipped entirely, and he allowed himself to kiss her back equally passionately and with an intensity of emotion he had so long suppressed.

It was midday, a nice and sunny one, and Diagon Alley was practically buzzing with people, some of which stopped to watch the kissing couple. Both of them were slightly dazed when they broke apart. To their great surprise they found themselves surrounded by a small crowd which was applauding and wolf-whistling.

Of course, Severus was extremely uncomfortable with the whole situation. If she hadn't known him as well as she did, the scowl on his face would have been a dead giveaway.

"Bugger," he whispered under his breath.

"Oh, shut up!" she whispered back through her teeth. "Just smile and bow."

tbc