Okay, I'm dead on my feet and haven't proofed this chapter very well. Sorry, I've got a flight to catch in a few hours.
Hippiechick was my super-quick reviewer last chapter. Still haven't got those cookies…although I could go for some gingerbread ones right now.
Lil, Hand3, Artemis MoonClaw, lovely to see you.
Draccy: had fun writing that dialogue myself. Like any true Supreme-Fic-Writing-Thingy (I'm a thingy? Ouch.) I am here with my regularly scheduled post.
Which will be put on hold as of tomorrow…I'll see you guys soon, though.
This'll have to hold you over.
Take care, everyone!
--Aimes the Exhausted
New A/N: Right, so, that teeny error in the end that EVERYONE caught has now been fixed. My excuse is that I was up all night and had to catch a flight to Cairo the next morning.
Hermione led Lupin into a posh but low-key apartment complex. She nodded to the doorman, taking Remus' hand and strolling toward the elevator.
"Mornin' Miss Lia. I haven't seen you for quite a spell," the guard said politely, cheerily.
"Good morning, David," Hermione replied in an upper crust London accent. "It's lovely to see you as well. I've been away on business and am quite glad to be home." She glanced noticeably at Remus then returned her gaze to David. "I won't be receiving visitors today, David, under any circumstances. Thank you."
The guard gave Lupin a critical once-over, mentally musing that a fine looking young woman like Amelia Hastings could do much better than this disheveled man. He pushed the call button for the elevator and nodded politely and deferentially as they entered the elevator and Hermione pushed her floor button. She slid her arm conspicuously around the waist of a taciturn Lupin as the doors closed. Hermione did not release him after the doors closed, but instead cuddled against his side; rising on tiptoe, ostensibly to suck on his earlobe, she murmured, "Could you try just a bit harder to pretend we're lovers?"
Like lightning his arms went around Hermione pulling her against his body, his head lowering to nibble on her neck. Hermione smiled at the camera in the upper corner of the elevator and winked. Oh! Didn't think he was actually going to ki—OH! His tongue flicked a particularly sensitive spot on her neck and she gasped, shuddering. His arms tightened around her.
"Better?" he growled, fully aware that his voice had dropped a few octaves. His mind broke through the haze of arousal within him and he realized what he was doing. Remus went rigid as he remembered the situation. Blessedly, the elevator doors open and Hermione pulled him playfully into the hallway and unlocked a door.
"Penthouse," she said casually. "Assassins don't come cheap. High job risk and all."
"Hermione," he faltered. "I…apologize for my behavior in the elevator…"
"Why?" she looked at him curiously. "You were perfect. There was a camera in the elevator; I figured you would catch on. If you had crossed the line, believe me, I would have let you know." She watched his brow furrow and smiled gently. "I'm not made of glass, Remus; I am a professional. I knew what happened to me was a possibility and I went to a therapist to create coping mechanisms in such an eventuality. Besides, I've been tortured before. They didn't rape me, at least and what is rape but another sort of torture anyways? It's all psychological really. Sex is a good thing. Rape is a tool that tries to convince you that a good thing is dirty and you've been dirtied by it. Bullshit. It's all a matter of perspective. Of course, being beaten to a pulp is never positive, so maybe perspective only goes so far." Hermione tapped her temple thoughtfully before shrugging and proceeding into her apartment. She gestured around the space. "Welcome to my humble abode." Home sweet home.
The apartment was huge, with blond hardwood floors and light sage green walls with white trim. The living room furniture was oversized and white, with splashes of lavender and light yellow. Overall the décor was sparse and tasteful, maximizing the effect of the huge windows with a gorgeous view of the park next door. Hermione gestured to the back wall, which had three doors on it, each painted a different complimentary color. The centre door was a dark, rich, lavender-blue, the one on the left a soft, darker yellow, and the one on the right a rich red.
"The colors on the door are the color themes in the room. Mine is the centre room. Poke around if you like, I'm going to put some gear together. Then I'd appreciate your opinion on a dress."
"I'm hardly a women's fashion critic," he said with a grin.
"You're a man. Just give an honest opinion, like or don't like. If I wanted a fashion critic I'd call Ginny."
He nodded and walked to one of the windows. Hermione watched him for a moment then went to a closet and opened the door. He's so…intense. Ugh, get your mind out of the gutter, Granger. Revenge now, insanity later. Smiling, she touched the knob and waited for the acknowledging click as the computer read her handprint. A light shot out of the small Georgia O'Keefe framed reprint next to the door at just above eye level. She looked up as the retinal scan initiated, waiting for her scan to clear. Hermione pulled open the steel reinforced closet door to reveal a veritable arsenal.
"Your version of a linen closet is intriguing."
"I'm sure it says a lot about me in a Freudian sort of way," Hermione replied without turning around. She knew from the direction of his voice that he was now sitting on one of the armchairs. "Get your feet off the coffee table. This isn't your office." Remus smiled slightly as he lowered his legs, relaxing into the comfortable chair.
"I don't have an office," he reminded her.
"Well this isn't your college dormitory, then," she responded easily. Hermione pulled out a customized Beretta as she spoke. The normal fifteen round clip had been upped to hold 16 full metal jackets. The extra bullet usually surprised those annoying bastards who counted how many shots had been fired. The trigger pressure was calibrated to perfection and a laser sight had been worked in. A detachable silencer altered the balance negligibly while managing to silence better than some of the most high end silencers on the market.
The perks of being a government spy. Customized gear made by the best. The gun had become like a close friend to her, and the one time it had been damaged Hermione had been very put out. So put out, in fact, that she'd topped her estimated kills for that mission by seventeen bodies and shrugged when ZT pointed it out. The Beretta fit snugly in her belt and she'd had a special smaller version of the Beretta constructed to fit in a thigh holster. It was considerably more lightweight, without the silencer and a seven-series clip with hollow point ammunition. Hermione had named it Junior, and the other gun had duly been dubbed Senior.
He'll have his wand, but maybe he'll want Senior just in case. Hermione turned to him and leaned against the door of the closet. "I don't know how comfortable you are with guns, but I am about to make one of the most remarkable exceptions of my life and offer you the use of Senior tonight." Remus looked blank.
"Senior's my favorite gun. He's like a best friend and lover all in one. He will not, however, fit in my thigh holster, so I offer him to you for the night." Lupin nodded, trying not to laugh in the face of her seriousness.
"I have fairly good aim. I'm acquainted with firearms quite well. I would be…honored to use…Senior."
"Lovely." Hermione checked the safety and tossed it to him. He caught it like a pro and flipped off the safety, checking the clip. In a smooth motion the safety was back on and he was aiming down his line of sight, using the laser targeting system. Hermione grinned at him and turned back to her weapons. After a moment of consideration her decision was made and she closed the door, resetting the locking mechanism.
"Only the guns?" Lupin looked surprised. He was used to her having a diverse array of weaponry.
"Not just the guns. One more weapon, you'll see. I want to kill Mella up close and personally. It's the best I'm going to get since torturing her and slaughtering her the way she deserves is unlikely. Now come on, we have to choose a dress for me and eat something then get ready to go." Remus dutifully followed Hermione through the rich, lavender-blue door.
Into a lavender-blue room with white trim and a black shaggy rug on the floor. She gestured to the black leather chair in the corner as she strode to a large walk in closet. The bedroom was more personal than the living room, of course. There were pictures of her friends and family on the walls in tasteful black wood frames, and the furniture tended toward black wrought iron and black wood. Her sheets matched the walls and her down comforter was white; a small, ragged stuffed animal sat on the bed inconspicuously, smiling cheerily. Several candles were placed on random wrought iron sconces throughout the room and were well used. A few pieces of original artwork dotted the walls; Remus did not recognize the artists. A CD player rested on one of three bookcases leaning against the wall and several hundred-CD cases were stacked on the floor next to one of the bookcases. The shelves themselves were the only hint of chaos in the orderly place. They overflowed with magical and muggle books, literature, anthologies, physics, charms, chemistry, potions, economics, poetry, fiction, nonfiction, every type of book under the sun. Lupin smiled at the obvious personality trait revealed in those shelves.
Hermione emerged from the closet and Remus froze momentarily before composing himself. She wore black satin underwear and silk stockings, held up by a garter belt. A black satin corset bra with silver buckles was wrapped around her upper torso. At the seam of the corset in the front, he saw a long sheath. Hermione pulled a long, wicked dagger out of her drawer and inserted it between her breasts into the sheath. Overall she looked like an amazingly sexy dominatrix, though she was more covered than many fully dressed women. He noted that her bruises were almost fully faded and mentally congratulated and thanked Snape's potion-making skills.
"Would you close those blinds, please?" Hermione gestured at the long white curtains that were partially open. He closed them quickly, noting that behind the sheer curtains were wood blinds and a wall that was almost completely glass. A set of French doors led onto a balcony with black wrought iron furniture.
"We have two dress options tonight. Blue or green. The red one won't hide my thigh holster." She pulled on a long thin strapped dress in a rich green satin and zipped it quickly. The lines were conservative and Spartan, with a straight cut across the chest, forming a rectangle with the straps, and the dress would have looked plain on a rack but flattered her to perfection. A long slit ran from ankle to just above mid-thigh on her right side.
"This is the green. Yes; no?" Her muscular thigh peeked out as she turned for him.
"I would have to see the blue one to judge accurately. However that dress is quite distracting."
"High praise," she teased, shimmying out of the green dress and zipping the blue one on. The blue dress was a sheer, clingy material that flared out at her hips and went to just below mid-thigh. It had a halter top that dipped dangerously low in the middle, almost but not quite revealing the dip of the corset. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him.
Remus looked distinctly dry mouthed. Both had been stunning.
"In a move that would shame Gryffindor to the grave, I'm going to go with the green one," he said solemnly.
"You've been spending too much time with Professor Snape. Going all Slytherin on me," Hermione laughed. "Green it is, dear sir." She disappeared into her closet leaving Remus staring at her back and she re-emerged in pajamas.
"Let me make a light supper then we can get dressed and go," she offered. Lupin nodded and rose, letting her lead him to the kitchen and begin to prepare chicken. He sat at the bar and watched her, preparing himself for the events of the night ahead.