TITLE: Suggestions welcome! And no, that's not the title, I really can't think of one...
AUTHOR: Gwyliane/Bastet/DevilChild, take your pick.
RATNG: PG-13?
PAIRING: Remus/Sirius
CONTENT: Fairly mild SLASH, might be some violence later.
FEEDBACK: Sure, my ego's still small enough to require some compliments :)
ARCHIVE: Ask and ye shall receive.
DISCLAIMER: J.K. Rowling is practically perfect, but she'll never be allowed to slash her characters. That's why we do it for her ;)
NOTES: Okay, so I kinda borrowed a character from Buffy. Don't wanna spoil it for you, though if you watched the show in season two you'll probably be able to guess. Oh, and the first part is pretty fluffy, but I promise that for once I *do* have a plot in mind.

"You wouldn't."

He grinned at me, eyes sparkling with suppressed devilment for a moment before they moved back to the gray cat that perched on the wall, completely absorbed, it seemed, in rubbing out any traces of human contact from between the toes of its left paw. "I might," Sirius warned, watching with a contemplative expression on his face.

I gave him a level stare, the kind I know won't do any good under any circumstances but can't resist sending out anyway. Besides, I was too close to laughing for it even to be a *good* stare. "You shouldn't. It would be mean."

"It's a cat," he stated, as if this fact had escaped my notice.

"Cats have feelings too," I argued nobly.

It took him about two seconds to counter that: "He looks bored."

"Some creatures *do* enjoy bathing, Padfoot."

He glared at me. "That's why they deserve whatever they get."

"Now you're just not making sense," I told him, smirking. I don't smirk much as a rule, but Sirius brings it out in me. "Are you entertaining the cat or punishing it?" He growled at me, rather convincingly, and the object of our discussion, apparently becoming aware of the possibly-impending peril, dove away from the sun-warmed stones and trotted off into the woods.

"Look what you made me do!" exclaimed Sirius indignantly. "That was low, Moony, really. You never let me have any fun."

"Better luck next time."

He got a contemplative look on his face as we meandered across the field. "Too bad *we* can't hunt together. We'd be great. We'd be a cat-legend."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't eat cats. Or chase them. They're too fast."

"You're boring," he said, and slung an arm over my shoulders. The fact that these two actions didn't make sense combined didn't occur to me - my brain had gone to the somewhat fuzzy and confusing place that it always did whenever his skin touched mine. "Too bad Prongs isn't here. *He* lets me have fun."

[Dear, oh-so-sensitive Sirius...] "Somehow I don't think James would be up to cat-hunting," I replied, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.

He caught it anyway. "Not that you aren't fun, in your own dull way," he consoled me. At least I think that's what he was trying to do. "Besides, I'd never do half the things I do if you didn't keep telling me how dangerous they are."

"And here I thought I was warning you," I said, sighing. "Ah, well. When you get yourself eaten by a dragon we all know who to thank."

"*Thank?!*" he exclaimed, indignant. "THANK?!"

I managed to keep a straight face. "Well, obviously it'll kill the dragon."

I was the subject of an incredulous stare for about three seconds before Sirius morphed into animal form and hurtled himself at me, barking furiously. I stumbled backwards and crumpled into the grass, sixty-odd pounds of black dog standing triumphant on my chest. "All right, you win," I coughed weakly, having had the wind knocked out of me.

The dog licked my cheek fondly and suddenly changed back into a sixteen year old boy who [unfortunately] was not running his tongue over my face. Dark eyes stared into mine for an instant; one leg fell between my thighs and I suddenly decided that a change of positions was in order. Grabbing his shoulders, I flipped us both over so that Sirius was pinned under me. He blinked.

"Thought you said I won," he complained, looking puzzled by the shift.

I grinned and rolled off of him. "I lied."

"*You* lied? Ooh, Moony's becoming a bad boy." He pushed himself to a sitting position.

Shaking my head, I told him, "Yeah, next I'll be taking up cat-chasing." Standing, I began heading back towards the cottage, my friend scrambling after me.

"You should. It's fun."

The cottage was at the top of the hill, well-concealed behind a thicket of trees and a protection spell. It belonged to my parents, who were too old to use it, so they'd asked if I wanted to share with a friend for the summer. Peter had other plans and James was busy with Lily - a pretty fellow Gryffindor - so I was alone with Sirius. All summer. And for some reason that thought brought on a rush of panicked elation which I didn't even want to begin to analyze.

"You think too much," Padfoot told me after I'd been silent for ten minutes, trying *not* to analyze. Having finished our after-dinner walk we were settled in the living room; Sirius had lit a normal fire beneath the mantelpiece and was watching me intently, silhouetted by the brightness behind him, tongues of flame dancing shadows across his face...[He said something, remember? Stop staring like the poetic git you are and answer him!]

"Not all of us can be as free as you." [Too true.] And I glanced at the calendar on the wall, where the full moon - in two weeks time - was circled in red ink.

All right...I'll explain everything better in the next part (ugh, explenations...really not my thing). Tell me what you think *puppy eyes* please...