In Sickness and In Health
All these characters and their world belong to J.K.R.
Chapter II
Emmaline Vance was an ice princess or at least, she tried to be. Even though she let her jaw physically drop open when she realized that they were indeed victims of the notorious Betrollis Virus, better known as Lover's Flu. However, she quickly regained her head and was able to hold off discussing anything of real importance with Severus regarding their current situation by needling him with a silly question. As if she cared what a man like Severus Snape wanted in woman.
Anyway, it was plainly obvious that he wanted her. She was the one with the flu symptoms, thus, he was the one with the attraction. And why not? She was an excellent catch for any man. It was just that most were too dense to realize that.
Yet, she had had a few set backs recently. One being that she was laid off from her editor's position at Barnus and Noblis, also, losing her very nice salary and paid holidays. After that happened, the posh flat suddenly became very expensive and that too had to be gotten rid of. She lived with her boyfriend for a while, Arlin Glennfidie until she'd found out he was screwing his secretary, and the maid, and the pub girl and who knows who else. Well! She was out of there in a heart beat, as soon as she stole his wand and then locked him out of the house in his polka dot thong and set his four poster bed on fire. Thank goodness, he was too embarrassed to set charges.
So here she was a nearly middle aged witch with no job, no home, no real savings, no boyfriend, stuck to a strange, often grumpy, ex- deatheater who also had no home, no family and whom she suspected had strange sexual fetishes. At least he did in her fantasies. (large grin)
"Lumos," the dark room of Snape's apartments suddenly alit with soft candle light revealing a large stone fireplace complete with a low burning flame dominated the sitting room. A Moroccan rug covered much of the floor. Two worn leather wingback chairs separated by a small table with a chess set, somewhere near the end of a game, occupied the center of the rug. A faded green sofa with its back facing her had a large black cat sleeping between the arm and the cushion. Outside of the carpeted portion, the floor was littered with books of all shapes and sizes that had over-flown the shelved walls and grown into stalagmite structures around the study.
As she breathed in the air of his male domain the aromas of peat and whiskey mingled in the stifled dungeon air.
Severus lurched forward causing Emmaline to trip. "OH!"
Strong, black sheathed arms caught her before she felt into the fireplace. "Watch where you're going Vance," Snape snapped, pulling her upward, "I won't have you getting all Nymphadora Tonks on me."
Emmaline pulled from his arms, obviously offended. Dusting off her skirts, "My family is pureblood Severus and I am certainly not some half breed that mates with registered beasts."
It was his second smile of the evening. She was cold, catty and pretentious and she was not afraid to conceal her dislikes. Yes, Emmaline was a rare bird. "If we don't go to the bedroom very soon, we'll be spending the floor. Follow me," he commanded.
"I've had less inviting offers," Vance sighed and allowed herself to be tugged along. It wasn't until she entered his bedroom and saw the enormous black cherry four poster bed lined with thick green velvet curtains and trimmings, did she recall Severus's earlier words about the pleasures of the bedroom. So this is where he took his pleasure, she mused.
Turning quickly on his heel, he looked at her as if she were a three headed toad sloth. He finally got out, "Do you need something to sleep in?"
It was at this moment that the true awkwardness of the situation began to set in. He had never spent the night with a woman in his own bed, not that he hadn't desire it, but his affairs with woman, when they actually occurred, were very brief and didn't usually involve a bed.
"No, I have on a chemise beneath my dress."
Severus heated as he thought about what was under her dress. "Right," he looked away, shrugged off his robe and began to unbutton his frock coat.
Emmaline didn't move and Severus felt her eyes on him like fire. His buttons were opened to mid chest. "Severus," her voice unusually quiet, "could we go ahead and blow the candles?"
"Of course," he answered. Within a second they were in standing in near darkness, the only light that of a waning moon from a small upper window.
After several pops of apparating clothing off her body and onto a near by chair, Emmaline shivered from both the chill of the dungeon and the thought of sleeping in a bed with Severus Snape. It wasn't as if she was an innocent maid, she'd had her share of boyfriends and lover's, but none so mysterious as Severus.
She usually dated wealthy wizarding businessmen who were more concerned about trade embargos on dragon eggs than they were about the battle with you-know-who. She'd also been with a few angry punks, a few spoiled rich kids of great wizarding families, but in all her time dating, she'd never ever been involved with a man that wore the dark mark.
Even if he was reformed, she had some idea of what he'd done as a deatheater and although she found it darkly fascinating, she also found it repugnant. She might be considered by some as a snooty bitch and her family a wealthy forest of wizarding purebloods with exotic titles, but they had never been supporters of Voldemort. Not one family member. In fact, her father had given his life in the first Order and now she was about to lay down with a man who had once done the unthinkable—kissed the hems of a demon. She physically wobbled, catching herself of the dresser.
For the second time, strong arms caught her, "I admit, you're sleeping draft is taking effect Vance."
Emmaline gripped tightly to his biceps, "Father's special recipe."
"You're father was brilliant at potions," Snape whispered, an unexpected intimacy growing between them in the darkness.
"And I've heard it said that you're even better; even more skilled than the greatest of masters."
He sighed, and she felt him turn away, but her grip stayed tight, "Everything has its price, Emmaline. Come, let's find the bed, I'm tired."
Snape pulled back the massive curtains and turned back the heavy duvet. Then turning back to Emmaline, he was struck by how close she was to him and how amazing her hair looked in the minimal moonlight of the room. It was thick and rich and glossy. Damn, that hat was going to meet a quick demise first thing in the morning.
She offered a lazy, dreamy smile, "Pleasures of the bedroom."
"What?" Snape questioned, confused.
Emmaline crawled onto the bed and he followed her. "It's what you said you wanted to share with your woman," then fluffing her pillow, she settled in beneath the duvet. "I wonder Severus, what pleasures you've shared beneath these sheets."
"I don't think that's-", he stopped as he could hear the heavy breathing of spontaneous sleep.
In concurrence, he laid his head down and turning on his side, facing her. He studied her womanly profile. The only pleasure he'd had beneath these sheets was of his own solitary making— fantasy and self gratification.
Swearing, he loathed himself for being a poor, unattractive, marked, middle aged school teacher, both a loser in love and in life. Looking upon her beguiling feminine form, her soft lips and porcelain skin, he damned himself again. Then, with bitter regrets more acidic than usual, he fell asleep.
Yawing, Emmaline Vance opened her eyes to a mirage of green and black. Jerking upward, she felt an unusual weight in her left a hand. Looking back, the memories of last night came rushing back into her mind, and she collapsed lazily back against the mattress. Severus sleeping soundly by her side, she whispered, "See, I am good at potions."
He muttered something but did not wake. "Hmmm", she looked at him, so peacefully dreaming. During the night the duvet had fallen to the end of the bed and they were currently only covered by a black satin sheet. Rolling the fine fabric between her finger tips, she nodded in approval, "You have nice taste."
That's when she noticed the lump. Severus was asleep on his back, the sheet falling beneath his ribs and just a bit lower down, a noticeable outline of morning maleness.
She arched her brows in ethical contemplation and then throwing aside ethics, gently lowered the sheet. Severus was wearing a grey dressing gown that came below his knees. She like the way he dressed in traditional wizarding attire. Too many wizards their age were dressing like muggles; which she regarded as disgraceful. You'd certainly never see her legs in a man's trousers!
Emmaline, an experienced witch, knew that men often experience a swelling in their male flesh during the waking hours and Severus was apparently no exception. Although, she burned with curiosity to lift up his gown, she didn't and honestly, she didn't need to. The thin fabric of the dress gown left little to the imagination and with that a large grin spread across her face, she admired his much endowed male anatomy. Perhaps she would enjoy their time together.
"Emma?" He asked, voice husky with sleep.
"Shhh," she commanded, lifting the sheet upwards towards his chest. "You've kicked off your covers." With a gentle smile, she whispered, "Go back to sleep."
Surprisingly he shut his eyes, and fell back into unconsciousness. Assuming he was a heavy sleeper and somewhat aroused by her snooping, Emmaline laid back down, but this time stretching out her body besides his; his male warmth easily seeping in through her own thin gown.
Closing her eyes, she rested her head against his shoulder and the smells of earthy peat and whiskey to mingled in mind, bringing her a strange peace, she felt asleep.
Severus's eyes jerked open. Something was on him. His breathing raced as he slowly turned his eyes to see a stream of mahogany locks flowing over his black satin sheets and the small face of Emmaline Vance buried in his shoulder.
His breathing hitched again as he surveyed the odd weights against his other limbs. Her small breasts pushed against their conjoined arms, her stomach and pelvis rested against his hip and long, smooth legs twisted around his. It was as if a vine of femininity entangled him and he desired its sweet suffocation.
Turning his head back towards her, he rubbed his great hooked nose against a curtain of hair. The scent of summer roses aroused his passions more and without thought, he kissed her smooth brow, she sighed, but did not wake.
Get a hold of your self Severus! A voice in his head yelled. He pulled his body away from her rapture, leaving her on the other side of the bed. It was either continue his seduction or experience the discomfort of unrequited throbbing between his legs. Unfortunately, he was a gentleman, and he chose the second.
He turned completely on his other side, although, since they were conjoined at the hands, it also brought her arm over his side. He heard Emmaline moan, movement and suddenly her body was spooned against his. Breasts pressing against his back, her hips pressed against his backside and smooth legs again twisted and rubbed against his.
"Vance, are you awake." He whispered, wondering why he didn't just shake her awake and tell her it was time to get up. It seemed he was a victim of his male desires; however, unrequited.
Silence and then a quiet, "No."
His body jerked as soft finger tips roved against his thigh, slowly pushing up his dressing gown. He closed his eyes, and his body involuntarily shuttered at the unexpected female touch. He wanted to say something, but for once in his life, he didn't know what.
Her hand continued moving up his leg, over his hip and then drifted down and discovered his bottom. Squeezing his eyes shut, he held still as her long fingers drifted against his flesh and explored the crescent shape of his back side; when finally the arousal of her strange teasing (as he couldn't remember ever being touched there by a woman) was more than he could bare, he commanded, "Enough!"
He pulled down his dressing gown, pushing her hand away. Was she mocking him with her eccentric foreplay? He sat upward, but didn't look at her.
"I'm hungry." And after her little adventure, she was certainly hungry in more ways than one. "Can we eat here or must we go to the dinning room?"
Severus released a heavy breath of disbelief. One moment she was violating his body and the next she's concerned about breakfast. He didn't know if he should be thrilled with her boldness of afraid of her next move.
He turned back to her, eyes dark, "You are an unusual woman."
A genuine look of gratitude brightened her face, "Thank you, Severus. By the way, did you sleep well?"
He looked at her deeply, wanting to use Occumency, but knowing she was surely too clever for that as he had heard she was quite skilled in her own right. "I did indeed Ms. Vance."
Emmaline reclined against the pillows, a fallen angel, "Good Professor Snape. I'm glad to hear your sleepless nights are in decline. It is a sad thing for a man not to have full control of his basic functions."
With his free hand, he leaned back across the bed and tightly gripped her writ. "I assure you, Emmaline, my basic functions are fully operational, that is to say, when given the right operating environment."
"I must remember that Severus. I'd say you just needed a fluffed pillow and the right woman to warm your bed."
"Perhaps you're right," he released his grip, fully aware of her game. "Although, as you reminded me yesterday, I'm not exactly looking for warmth in woman."
Smiling mischievously, "Than I must endeavor to be more cruel."
Severus pulled back the bed curtain, and stood up. "That shouldn't be hard for you Emmaline. I think cruelty is in your nature, for it's certainly in your touch."
Unexpectedly, Emmaline Vance threw her head back and laughed. She hadn't enjoyed this much verbal play with a man in years. "Severus Snape," She said his name in disbelief. "Whoever would have thought it," she mused aloud, "You're a tease."
"Breakfast?" He raised a dark brow, black hair tumbling over his shoulder as he offered her his hand and perhaps his heart.