Tonks has decided that Remus is definitely ignoring her; he seems to be going to great lengths to keep out of her way, to the extent that the normally bubbly Auror is feeling very hurt indeed, and not a little distracted. He seems to shy away from her touch, which hurts her just that little bit more than she'd ever be willing to admit. Is she really so physically repulsive to him?
It's due to this preoccupation that she manages to walk into a half-open filing cabinet and knock herself out. Moody, being Moody, decides that she is so far off of "constant vigilance" that she needs to go home. Nursing a bruise and a slightly bad temper, she walks into Number 12, Grimmuald Place and comes face to face with the object of her preoccupation.
"Wotcher, Remus!" She calls, forcing a smile and trying to inject a note of cheer into her voice.
"Tonks," he replies, looking poised to flee, "you're back early.."
"Knocked meself out, didn't I?" Tonks points at the bruise on her forehead and grimaces, "They sent me home, said I was too preoccupied to be of any use.." she bites her lip, cursing inwardly at having betrayed too much.
"Why don't you just morph it away?" Remus raises both eyebrows as he says it, and Tonks' eyes widen as she thinks on it.
""Y'know, I never thought of that. I must be bloody preoccupied, at that." Tonks wrinkles her nose (privately wishing she could grow out of the infantile habit) and watches Remus' eyes for an indication that the bruise has gone. He nods when it's disappeared, and she relaxes slightly.
"So what are you preoccupied with?" Remus asks, sounding as though he's trying hard to be polite.
Tonks fiddles nervously with the edge of her robes and toys with saying "YOU!", but bites it down and settles for mumbling something about Order business. Remus seems to accept this explanation and rises from his seat, huffing in a breath as he does so. The air around Tonks' ear is stirred slightly and she shivers.
"Remus," she blurts out, hardly knowing what she's going to say but knowing she has to keep him there, somehow. He raises an eyebrow in reply and she forces herself to go on, "Um, well, you're good at all this stealth stuff, right?"
Remus nods, looking slightly bored.
"Well, you might've noticed that I'm not so good at it and well, would you maybe help me?" Where in the name of Merlin did that come from? Tonks glares at her feet as though they're responsible.
"Of course I'll help you. Any time," he says softly, turning to leave. A spark of the devil in Tonks has her reaching a hand out to stop him, has her leaning forward ever so slightly to place a kiss on his cheek and breathe in a heady mix of aftershave and some musky scent she can't identify. Blushing to the roots of her bubblegum-pink hair, she draws away, missing the utterly dumbfounded look on Remus' face.