A/N: Wow, "Baby's on Fire," (sorry, cheesy Velvet Goldmine reference). I've got, yet, another chapter finished and up. I'm working away, slowly chipping away at a conflict I hope to soon establish, even if it is a little one. Several have asked me where my inspiration comes from, and I'll answer right out: Music. There are loads of songs out there that help you picture scenes, but for me, it's a lot of Danny Elfman music, not the HP soundtrack (too distracting). The other inspiration comes from Gary Oldman as Sirius Black. I see him AS Sirius as much as Sirius resembles Gary Oldman. Many of you younger HP fans might not appreciate what he's done, or what he's capable of for that matter, but know that when I write this, it's a very dashing, very handsome, younger Gary Oldman doing all these deeds ;)

The next few chapters might not be as speedy, but I'll do my best. I'm still hoping to get some work done on the Labyrinth fan fic I'm writing, as that was my first passion before Sirius and Hermione frolicked into my life.

I don't normally do this, but because they've been extremely supportive of this story and leaving reviews, I dedicate this chapter to Serendipity-England-1922 and Khuu-Khuu from LJ.

Ch. 8 – To Be Left is to be Alone

The very next day, the couple was notified of their second monthly inspection by the Ministry. Like before, Mr. Shortbook looked through the apartment, to validate their marriage. Hermione was standing with Sirius by the fireplace as they were just as eager for him to leave as they were for him to arrive.

Sirius glanced over and saw the way she'd tug on her shirt, or her skirt, making sure she was damn near perfect, but honestly just working herself into nervous hysterics. His heart went out to her, again remembering that she had a lot to lose if they didn't succeed. For the last week, he just felt like things were getting easier, and it was apparent in their body language.

Hermione no longer cringed when Sirius, so much as put a hand on her shoulder, but instead just smiled at him. She laughed with him more, mocked him with his excessive winks and was generally playful with him. Even when they were being inspected, it was no reason to drop that. Making a small, sweet sound to catch her attention, she glanced over at him and saw him pull her to him. With ease, she wrapped her arms around his waist and sighed when she felt his chin rest over her head.

Her face pressed in close to his chest and she slowly drifted away to the hypnotic sound of his pleasant heart beat. His hand gently rubbed her back, soothing her of the knots she'd worked herself into. At the sound of Mr. Shortbook's voice, she tried to pull away, but Sirius held her tight, not letting her go. She moved her head a little to better see the balding man of authority and spoke to him from there.

Like before, Mr. Shortbook took out his notebook and started to scribble extra notes about them, "And the copulation?"

"Come on!" Sirius groaned, still revolted by the scientific word he kept using.

Hermione smiled with his funny tone, "We're good."

"Look, Shortbook, new word. Don't be so technical. We're bangin away, so leave it at that." Sirius interrupted, raising a hand to the back of Hermione's neck to tangle his fingers in her tendrils.

The short pudgy man glanced up at Sirius through hooded eyes, jotting down notes. "But, you're not pregnant?"

Hermione's breath escaped her and she managed to pull away from Sirius, allowing him to leave a hand on her back, "No!" she barked, "I mean, no, not yet."

Mr. Shortbook furrowed his brow and flipped through a few pages in his notebook, "You two have been married for nearly two months, and still you're not expecting? Surely, you understand the rules of the law."

"Yes, we do, but don't blame us if the precious gift of life hasn't been granted to us, yet." Sirius blew up, this time feeling Hermione's hands reach up and press against his chest to calm down.

A bit alarmed by his reaction, Hermione gently pushed him back, afraid that he was going to fly off the handle any second, "Darling, it's all right."

"You go back and tell the Ministry fucks to sit and wait! It's bad enough that they're forcing muggles to marry against their will, but it's another to badger them about not being knocked up!"

"But, Mr. Black, no one forced Mrs. Black to marry you. You told me that you two have been courting for quite sometime." Mr. Shortbook was waiting for something like this to come out. He was waiting for the notorious Sirius Black, let the truth slip and their marriage would be over within minutes. He already had one in particular lined up, just in case something were to "accidentally" happen to Sirius Black and his flippant tongue.

"We were!" Hermione interrupted, desperately afraid for Sirius to blurt something else out that might have been taken the wrong way.

"We were a special case! Now, I believe, Shortbook, that you're done. Good-bye." Sirius growled, letting Hermione fawn over him with her gentle caresses around his face and neck, to calm him down.

With a swift nod, Mr. Shortbook tipped his hat to Hermione and stepped through the fireplace.

"What was that?" Hermione yelled, putting her hands against his chest and looking up at him with fearful eyes, "You nearly blew it!"

Sirius looked away, not wanting to confront the issue that his temper might have gotten away from him, "No, I didn't. The Ministry is made up of a bunch of pricks and they have no right to dictate what we should or shouldn't be doing. They've got us on a fucking deadline!" he argued, looking everywhere around the flat, but down at her.

"But, you shouldn't have said that to him, now they're going to look at us through a magnifying glass if we keep acting like this. Sirius, please!" she begged him, putting a hand up to his cheek.

Like a stubborn child, Sirius pulled away from her and without looking back, grabbed his jacket and apparated away.

Hermione felt all the blood rush into her fingertips, her legs began to wobble and she felt like all the air in the flat was being sucked away from her. She had worked herself up to the brink of exhaustion and found herself beginning to sob. Like the most important thing in her life had shattered, she felt like her only lifeline had deserted. She depended on Sirius and at that moment, he proved to be absolutely useless. He might have botched the whole thing up, and then when she wanted to confront him with it, he left her. He left her standing in their flat, with no explanation, no invitation and avoiding all confrontation with her.

She looked around at the flat, believing that any minute, a Ministry authority was going to apparate in front of her, take her away and marry her off to the first available Death Eater. Her mind raced a mile a minute and brief thoughts came to mind about how they would present her with divorce or annulment papers, how they would assign her another mate and how she'd probably never see Harry, or Sirius for that matter, ever again.

Along her warmed cheeks, Hermione felt a tear moisten her skin and soon she realized that she was letting her body cry. She felt alone and forgotten and slightly frightened. She didn't want to apparate, afraid that something or someone might intervene her transport and instead, made careful slow steps towards her own bedroom. She leaned against the wall for support and allowed her body to slump further, feeling it shutter from the emotional wave that had taken her under. She made it to her room and with minimal effort, collapsed on the bed, curling up with her old blanket and favorite pillow. Her body shook lightly, as she listened to the light thunder in the distance, indicating a storm was brewing in the outside world. Her eyes felt heavy and soon she was quietly drifting off to sleep, lost in a world of insecurity.

With a "pop", Sirius apparated back into the flat a couple of hours later. His jacket was wet, his pants felt heavy and his heart was weighed down with unfamiliar guilt. He shrugged off his leather coat and hung it up by the door. He stood for a moment in his silence, listening for any sound of life in the flat with him. The living room remained dark, since the storm outside had crept into the early evening. Sirius's acute sense picked up on Hermione breathing somewhere in the flat. He allowed his body to sigh, preparing himself for what he was about to face and ran a hand through his damp hair as he started the walk down the hallway to her bedroom.

Like before, he saw that her door was ajar and he peeked in to see her lying asleep. There were no sensual movements this time, no writhing under the covers like a prisoner's fantasy, just a hurt young girl. Sirius's heart sank lower, knowing that she had probably put herself to bed early, not wanting to deal with the stress he had caused her that afternoon.

He quietly pushed her door open and stepped into her cozy little guest room that she had made her own. Nothing about it was personalize, nothing about it said that it was her room, only the book that lied on the nightstand with her wand carefully placed nearby.

Maybe she was going to hex me, when I came home.

For what it was worth, he smiled somberly when he saw how beautiful she looked under the light blanket, with her hair sprawled around her head like the mane of a lion. Her breathing had subsided and she appeared to be in a deep sleeping trance that he resented breaking. He kneeled down next to the bed, his hands in front of him as if in prayer and he whispered her name with a gentle tone. She didn't move.

Sirius reached out for her hand that rested close to her chest and lightly grazed her cheek with the back of his fingers. He watched as her eyes began to flutter and she slowly opened them to see the stubborn handsome man looking remorseful.

She wasn't startled or alarmed, but she did close her eyes on him. He curled both hands around hers, wishing that she'd look at him.

"You left me, Sirius." She whispered weak from her sleepy haze.

He lowered his head like a guilty puppy, "I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you."

She opened her eyes again and with no emotion added, "Do you leave all the women that depend on you?"

Sirius couldn't look up. Not when she had called him out on the truth. Not when she appeared to be so innocent and honest, lying there before him. It was true, she was his responsibility and he had just simply walked out because of the way he was so used to dealing with things. He knew that was a problem he had, throwing himself into a fight, get in the doghouse, and avoid everything to confront it. Like the Veil – he screwed up, and if it wasn't for Hermione, then he wouldn't have been there today.

"I deserved that. I know how much this means to you, Hermione. I shouldn't have said what I did to that little prick-"

"Sirius." She whispered, trying to correct him, even in her half conscious state.

"I know I should really try to avoid calling him names," he paused, "Well, until he's gone."

"He's going to tell the Ministry."

"I know. And I promise you, I'll deal with it. Don't worry. You'll be safe." He replied, his tone that of resentful remorse. He hated to admit he was in the wrong, but knew if she was going to trust him, then he was going to have to start taking responsibility for his tongue.

She opened her yes fully, now; blinking enough to hold back the tears that still lingered from earlier. With mixed emotions, she had sobbed herself to sleep, not wanting to feel that sense of dependency on him. She'd already told him that she was fine just being married to him, possibly implying that she might be open to more, but she was sure he didn't read it.

How could he? Why would he? When she needed him to talk, he left. When she was afraid of what was going to happen, because he lost his temper, he left. He couldn't do that. She couldn't rely on that.

Upon his words, Sirius leaned over and kissed her hand, chivalrously. His lips lingered for a few moments longer than what was necessary for making the point and she could almost feel the subtle burning on her skin. His lips felt soft, but rough with the light stubble on his chin.

He pulled away and tilted his head to see into her pretty eyes. Feeling better, now that she had seen that he did feel horrible with how he reacted, she smiled at his kind gesture.

Giving her a smile back, he whispered, "I got you something."

She smiled wider and whispered, "You did?"

Sirius reached into his jeans pocket and took out a short thick stick. He gave it to her and with her now free hand, accepted it, but furrowed her brow as she looked at it.

"It's just a stick, Sirius."

Sirius reached over for her wand, whispered a spell and transfigured the thick stubby stick into a beautiful bouquet of blood red roses. As the flowers took shape in her hand, she slowly sat up from the confines of her blankets. She felt her cheeks flush and with a big smile, still not forgetting what he had done, she laid them down to her side to reach for him. He stood up to sit on her bed beside her and welcomed her embrace, pulling her close to him. He felt her squeeze him tightly, thankful that he had returned and confronted her. He, ever so pleased to feel her beating heart against his, kissed her on the crown and gently smoothed down her hair. She felt so good against him, her arms wrapped tightly around him, proving to him that she did, indeed, need him. Only now, he had to make it up to her, proving that she had gotten the best wizard for the job.

After dinner they ordered from a muggle Chinese restaurant, Sirius invited Hermione to read next to him. Only, this time, it was when he was sitting on his own bed, lying in his pajama pants, shirtless. Upon the invitation, Hermione summoned all of her courage to accept, warning herself that she had to maintain some self control and not stare, because if the tattoos on his chest weren't a work of art, his very lean and firm form was. He claimed that he had questions in the book she had offered him to read and was hoping to keep her nearby, should any arise when he hit any new parts. She accepted, making sure that she kept her distance when settling in on his bed.

"I'm not going to bite you, love." He purred, lowering his book as she seemed to keep at least three feet between them as she adjusted the spare pillows against the headboard.

She played it cool and preoccupied and answered, "I'm not afraid that you are. I just don't want you to feel smothered."

He smiled, knowing that she had suddenly taken to fidgeting with her tank top, making sure she wasn't revealing anything. Though, why she wasn't aware of how short her yoga shorts she slept in were was beyond him. He was grateful that she hadn't noticed him glancing down at her firm pale thighs.

"Don't be concerned for me, I've been in tighter places." He smirked, thinking of his double entendre.

Now is not the time, Sirius.

He mentally cursed himself for making a mental note of how alluring she appeared with her little tank top, short shorts and all of her book nerdiness displayed for him. She may never be his normal type, but there was definitely something about her that made him take a triple glance at her. She was, indeed, coming around and he was sure that she was probably always this way around Harry and Ron, but only now was she comfortable to appear this way before him.

The fact that it had been ages since he'd been laid had nothing to do with it.

Twenty minutes went by and Sirius glanced over when he heard Hermione close her book and lean it against her chest as she leaned her head back and mulled it over. She had obviously finished it and was quite pleased with its ending. Sirius on the other hand, was still trying to figure out why he hadn't noticed the details of the Mona Lisa before this book and was absolutely mesmerized by it.

After a few minutes of getting lost in her thoughts, Hermione looked over at Sirius, who's head down made his hair fall over his shoulders. Without him noticing, she skimmed his half naked body down to his stomach where she admired the way his skin barely rippled in the curve of his body while he sat, as it was pulled over taut muscles from vigorous workouts.

Since returning from the Veil, he had been determined to capture any bit of his cheated youth that he had, and he had done well. There before her eyes laid a man whose mental clock of twenty-four, though his birth certificate might say thirty-nine, didn't appear to be anything over thirty.

Hermione sighed aloud, catching Sirius's attention, glancing over. Horrified that she had made any sound at all, let alone it be a sigh of admiration, she quickly recovered with examining the tattoos on his chest and arms.

"So, what does this one mean?" she asked, leaning on her side and placing a finger on the center tattoo that looked like an Egyptian symbol.

Sirius glanced down to where her finger touched and he answered, "That one means truth."

"And this one?" she trailed her finger to another up by his collarbone.

He swallowed deep as her gentle touch caused his mouth to dry. With only a finger, this young woman was able to capture his breath for the moment.

"That one means loss."

"And this one?"

He followed her finger, feeling her lean in to better view his body art where her face was inches from his own, "That one was my last. It means revenge."

Hermione raised her face to peer into his. She looked up to see his beautiful dark eyes gazing into her own and for a brief moment, thought she saw him move in, but in a subtle way, he just reached up and moved a lock of hair from falling in her face.

She swallowed, lost in the Black Sea that were his eyes and cleared her throat to brazenly quietly ask, "Do you have any tattoos that I can't see?"

Sirius remained still, raising a corner of his mouth to smirk at her curiosity, "No. You can see everything that I have."

She froze, just sure that he was going to lean in and kiss her. She was ready. She was waiting for it. She was just shy of moving in on her own, but retracted the centimeter she did move in. Hermione was not going to initiate anything. That's not the way it was done and she sure was not the type he would normally go for.

Sirius needed a girl that was rebellious, wild, crazy, and fun. Not someone that thought a good night pampering herself was with a non-fiction book and a muggle Coca-Cola. Someone as plain and boring as she wouldn't be someone that might turn Sirius's head. But, for that second that she thought he might move in, she found her eyes beginning to sag. Her emotional rollercoaster of a day had wiped her out and even laying in such close proximity to the man that exude sex like a cologne wasn't able to keep her awake.

The minute Hermione began to let her eyelids droop, her head was resting against his shoulder, relaxed and sound asleep. Sirius watched her fade and was more than grateful to accommodate her with any part of his body. If it kept her in his bed, even completely clothed, he was going to jump at the chance of it.

However, Sirius being Sirius Black, he couldn't help but sneak a peek. The way she laid sleeping against Sirius's side, had left her loose tank top a little open. His eyes traveled down her neck through long dark curtains of heaven and he was able to peek down at the top of a perfect set of supple breasts, belonging to a wife he could never bed.

Sirius carefully picked up his wand, whispered an incantation and the sheets were softly laying themselves over them. Extinguishing the light on the stand, Sirius closed his eyes as he felt the warm body next to his, just thankful that for the night, he wasn't alone.