Her hands were stuck deep into her pockets as she approached the foreboding house. They were the only part of her that was dry. Outside of her coat everything was wet from the rain, inside, from her sweat. Once she stood in front of the small door, her palms began to sweat as well.
She looked at the surrounding neighborhood, making sure that no one saw what happened next. Pulling a key out of one of her shaky hands and pushing it into the door with the other she concentrated. A magical force ran along the key and checked it, making sure it was the real thing. When the lock clicked she let out a sigh of relief and dropped it into her pocket.
Stepping delicately inside she took off her coat and hung it on the rack. It automatically dried up and hung as fresh as if just washed. She tiptoed down the hall and clicked the kitchen door behind her quietly. Once inside she smiled as the one person she wanted to see most was sitting by the fire in the kitchen. She smiled lazily and watched him look through the papers on his lap. Strictly business, of course. That's why he was here. She sighed and deliberately made her footfalls louder than necessary. He started and turned around suddenly. But when he saw who it was he calmed down.
"Oh, its only you." John said, "I was afraid that it was Nymph. You know how she is when I'm not sitting at a table when working." He smiled at her, and her heart melted. Only on the inside only though. On the outside she only smiled at his joke.
"Do you know when she's coming over?" She asked, enjoying the fact that Nymph wasn't here yet.
"No," He said, scratching the back of his head, "She should be here soon though. Is anyone else coming?"
"No, they're holding a meeting . . . somewhere." She said, a dark look passing over her face. "So everyone is out patrolling."
"You know I'd thought they'd have stopped once He fell." He got up and put the newspaper on the chair. He walked over to the kitchen sink, passing by her and making her stomach flutter.
"Anything I can help you with for dinner?" He asked warmly.
For a moment she blanked. She had been staring at his neck, thinking . . . and was suddenly knocked to reality.
"Uh . . . yes. I need to get that tea water heated. I have some meat pie sitting in the oven, warming up." She steadily walked by him to the oven on the other side of the kitchen next to the fireplace, and opened in up, looking inside. She pulled out her wand and made it hover in the air over to the table. She flicked her wand and 3 plates and 3 sets of silverware flew out.
"I'm going to get things out for Nymph, since I know she'll be here any moment." She then manually got out three tea-cups and saucers.
John was still looking for the tea-bags when the kettle whistled. He ran over to the pot as she got out the tea bags from a drawer under the stove.
He finished setting up the tea and handed her the teapot, and slightly brushed her hand. She felt a shiver run down her spine and he moved away, probably not noticing anything. He sat down at the table and cut the pie, serving her a piece and one for himself. He waited a moment for the pie to cool down a bit, and poured them both tea. She gladly accepted the cupful of amber liquid, and held it in both hands. For some reason she was still cold. She held it under her mouth near her chin and inhaled the steam. She looked across the table, and he was doing the same. Her stomach lurched and nauseating happiness began to fill her. A moment later he shifted the cup and the fire glinted of something on his hand. Embarrassed, and rushed back to reality far to quickly, she set down her cup down and began to eat. She needed to stop, it just wasn't healthy. She picked at her food, and thought. It was a few moments later when she realized that he was staring at her. Bringing up her eyes, she met his gaze guiltily.
"What's wrong?" He asked so oblivious to what was really going on. For a moment she pitied him, then she was just glad he didn't know.
She stuck another forkful of food into her mouth when she realized he had asked her a question.
"No, I'm just worried where Nymph is." She lied quickly. At the mention of his wife, John straightened up.
"Hmm, knowing her, she's probably out patrolling as well." He looked at his cup of tea with puzzlement as he thought about it. With a smile to reassure himself, he said, "Until she comes back, we have the whole house to ourselves." He grinned at her.
Her heart skipped a beat. If only that meant what she wanted it to mean.
"Nah, I'm sorry John." She finished the last of her pie, and picked up her teacup again. "You're going to have to file papers by yourself tonight. I'm tired from today's mission." She swallowed the last mouthful of her tea.
"Why are you still calling me 'John'? My name is 'Reamus'." He cut himself another piece of the pie. "And if you're tired, you should just go to bed."
"That's what I intend on doing." She put the plate into the sink, along with her cup and silverware. "As long as this is my house I will. Say hello to Nymph when she gets here, will you? If anyone else comes in, feel free to wake me."
She walked over to the door, put her hand on the knob, and opened it. She turned back around, and said, " 'Night John." And disappeared through the door. She closed it quietly and went up the stairs to her bedroom. She changed into her pajamas and went to the bathroom one last time.
When she climbed back into bed she could hear sweet talking from downstairs and laughter. For a moment she was tempted to go down and join them, but thought better of it. She turned off the light and snuggled into the blankets.
As she drifted off, and his face appeared one last time, she didn't feel guilty. She was off in her dreams where nothing could be held against her, and anything could happen. Before she faded out completely, she only managed to whisper, "Good night, Reamus."