Interesting Circumstances

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and everything related belongs first, and foremost, to JK Rowling, and then to her partnerships with Bloomsbury, Scholastics, Warner Bros., etc.

Summary: Jily Muggle AU Officer/arrestee. Inspired by long live marshmallows review – I hope you (and everyone else!) likes it!

Posted: 05/10/15

The old man sat at a dark mahogany desk facing the iron bars of the station's holding cell. His gray hair was combed immaculately to the side and his uniform spotless. His eyes, however, were blood shot under a pair of glasses that were being picked off the bridge of his nose frequently as he rubbed his tired eyes. He knew he only had minutes left yet couldn't help himself from staring at his watch. It proved much easier to ignore the angry voice from the holding cell when he knew he was going to punch out any moment.

"Evening, Clive," a younger man said, coming into view from around the corner in the echoing stone hallway attached to the room. He too wore glasses, but otherwise was the exact opposite of Clive. He seemed disheveled on principle.

"'Lo, James. 'm glad to see you," Clive responded, sending the uncomfortable metal chair screeching backwards as he stood. "Would stay 'round to chat but…" When the younger man, James, reached his side, he lowered his voice. "Good luck with this one. Hasn't giving me more than a mo' peace before yelling 'er head off 'bout this and that."

James tossed a quick look over to the cell, but from where he was standing he could only see a mess of red hair. "Don't you worry about me, Clive."

Clive studied the younger man's restrained smirk and then opened his mouth. He seemed to think better of it, however, and closed his mouth before patting James on the shoulder and trudging past him.

The change of guard seemed to awaken the mane of hair, and as James sat down at the desk, he watched her stand up straight and wobble toward the bars – clearly intoxicated. James had to stop himself from smirking.

"This isn't even my fault," the girl told him, her voice rash. Her hair, tied to one side, swung wildly at her shoulder.

"Someone force you to go to the pub tonight, did they?" James answered, unconcerned. He had begun thumbing through the paperwork on the desk and discovered her name: Evans, Lily; drunken disorderly conduct.

"Of course not," she said, hotly. At this James looked up, his eyebrows rising up his forehead. "Your snark is unappreciated, by the way!" She seemed to finally notice she was no longer talking to Clive. "Where'd that old codger get to?"

James' eyebrows descended back to their normal place, then stitched as he considered her. Not that James ever much looked forward to overnight shifts watching the holding cell, but he was definitely not excited at the prospect of listening to this drunk bint all night.

"His shift ended."

"So now they expect you to be the guard? A lanky bloke like you? Well, I suppose if they thought that old man could…"

James found himself now amused instead of annoyed, as he watched the girl's attention trail away from her insults. Despite himself, he found himself rising to his full height and walking toward the cell. His approached gained Lily's full attention, and she took a step away from the bars as she studied him.

"Lanky, am I? Coming from someone who wouldn't be eight stones when wet. You're pocket-sized, Evans."

Her indignation faded to confusion as she heard her last name. She stumbled a step forward, her eyes bulged then squinted as she studied his nametag. After registering his name, she took another daring step forward and they were only separated by a few inches and iron bars.

"I've held my own versus blokes twice your size, Potter."

"I've been wondering whether you can read or not. Guess you probably could've had another couple of pints… Had you not been arrested, that is."

His reminder seemed to reawaken her anger. She took a step back from the bars and began a slow looping pace back and forth across the cell.

"I've already told you – and I told that other man, as well, and I specifically shouted it so he could hear me through his hearing aid – this is not my fault. I got ditched during a bachelorette party and I was just trying to get help back to my mates."

Even though he didn't want to, James could hear the sincerity in her voice. Well, once he got past her snide dig at Clive. He watched as she stopped pacing, instead opting to sit down on the large cement bench at the back of the cell. Indeed she was dressed for an evening out. She had on high heels and her hair was twisted to one side. He also noticed a small jacket sitting next to her in the cell, and he tried to not notice the small black skirt riding up her thigh. Police were required to studied people and note important details, but he knew he definitely shouldn't be noticing that.

James looked around, his hand flying into his hair, causing it to stand up at the front. "Did you get in touch with them, then? Clive gave you your phone call, yeah?"

Lily looked up, her eyes bright and brimming with tears (James swallowed). "I left a voicemail on my mate's mobile but she won't likely listen to it until tomorrow. Even if she were to listen to it tonight she'd be in no state to come here." Her voice quivered. "I j-just want to go home."

He swallowed again as Lily dabbed under her eye with the palm of her hand. "I can't let you out, Evans. But…"

She looked up to see him walk away from the bars to the cabinet behind his desk. He extracted a blanket and a shabby looking pillow from one of the shelves. Her wide green eyes watched as he quickly opened the iron door and marched inside. Her mouth opened but no words came out.

"These are the best we have lying around, I'm afraid. But they'll do wonders to make that bench a little more comfortable." His shadow fell over her, but his face was kind.

"Thank y-you," she said, as she stood with her hand outstretched.

Their eyes locked, and James noticed her stare harden. He cleared his throat, retreating, after the cloth left his finger-tips.

"You're welcome. Try to get some rest and you'll be out of here before you know it," James told her, quietly shutting the cell door.

He tried to not watch her pull the blanket around her as she curled atop the stone bench, but found himself staring at the way a stray piece of hair fell onto her cheek as she closed her eyes. Finally, he forced himself to go through the open case files he normally worked on during his overnight shifts. Occasionally, he found his eyes traveling up from the paper as Lily slept. By the time his shift drew to a close, he had finished three cups of coffee and five sets of paperwork.

The sun streamed in through the small window behind his desk. It casted a yellow light along the ground into the cell and landed as a stripe over Lily's face. The light highlighted the different shades in her dark hair, and it wasn't until she started stirring that James realized he had been staring at her. Just as she slowly sat up, growing accustom to her surroundings, two sets of echoing footsteps cut through the silence.

Then, "Lily!" a girl said, rushing into the room, her long brown hair flowing behind her.

"Marlene!" Lily replied, rising from the bench and stumbling toward the bars. The girls stood inches apart at the bars, Marlene talking in a furiously fast voice, and James' attention was drawn to the officer still standing at the door.

"They've decided to let her off with a warning," Officer Stebbins told James, lingering in the doorway as he waited for the girls.

"Right."

James stood from his desk and nimbly crossed the room and opened the cell door. Marlene threw her arms around Lily as she exited the cell. James heard profuse apologies from the brunette and quiet shushes from the redhead – evidently Lily was nursing a hangover.

"Thank you," Marlene finally said, turning to James as they continued walking past him.

"Sure," James said, before pursing his lips and nodding.

"Thanks," Lily said, and though she looked as though she wanted to say more, the tug on her arm from Marlene prompted her forward and she left with only a small backward glance at him.

James forced himself to nod at Stebbins. Then he forced himself to not watch her go.

The remaining few minutes of his shift passed with James thinking of anything but the red-head. But the moment he stepped outside his mind flew back to her. He saw her red hair and striking eyes, and even heard her sharp tone. He knew he was mad. Apart from extending common curtsey to prisoners, it had been drilled into his mind to not become overly friendly with them. Granted, this girl wasn't a typical prisoner. It had clearly been a misunderstanding that led her to the jail cell, and James suspected it to be unlikely for her to ever again be in the jail. That, he supposed, was why she lingered on his mind so much. He would never again see her, yet he wanted to. There was something about her, some quality, beyond what his mind could identify, that intrigued him. And it looked as though he would never have the opportunity to discover what that quality was.

He crashed onto the bed in his flat with this thought on his mind, but luckily fell asleep.

James thought of Lily for the next few days, though the amount in which she crossed his mind decreased as the days went on. He didn't share his thoughts with his roommate and best friend, Sirius, though, because he knew what Sirius would say anyway. You've gone mad, mate, eying girls in the holding cell. It was Sirius' voice in James' head that carried him through the remainder of the week, driving Lily out when she popped into his mind. Sirius' unspoken words worked so well, in fact, that by the next week James didn't think about Lily once, which only made her showing up at the police station that much better.

"Going across the road to grab some lunch," James told his supervisor Moody as he grabbed his jacket from behind his chair.

Moody sent a gnarled hand in the air from his office as a response, and James turned on his heel toward the stairwell. He jogged down the flights of stairs, his boots echoing loudly as they slammed the metal, but came to a slower pace as he pushed open the lobby door and stepped out onto the street. He was at the curb, a moment from stepping out to cross, when a flash of red caught his eye.

His head spun to look straight at her, and if she hadn't been striding directly toward him, he would have proceeded to cross the street.

"Hi," she called as she approached; her pace slowed significantly once he turned his body to face her. She was dressed more casually now: a shirt with a cardigan and a long pair of jeans. She also held a plastic container at her side.

"Hi," he replied, realizing now he was staring.

"I don't know if you remember me…" she began, her shoulders tucking inward as she looked sheepishly anywhere but his eyes.

"Lily Evans, right?" He was pleased at how casual his tone of voice was. Sirius would be quite proud, he found himself thinking.

"Yes," she said, exhaling a small breath in relief, but her shoulders now tensed again. "I'm sure this is a bit strange because it's been nearly a week but I wanted to thank you for being so kind… And I wanted to apologize for being so intolerable. I'm a terrible drunk."

"Oh," James said, wholly taken aback, his face breaking involuntarily into a smile.

"I baked biscuits!" Lily added, cutting him off as she pushed the container toward him. James' smile covered the entirety of his face as he grabbed the box from her. "There's quite a few in there… for you and Clive."

James felt his face falling and attempted to recover but he was certain his smile was more like a grimace and Lily recoiled.

"I'm sorry! Was this inappropriate? I don't mean to get you into trouble – or me for that matter! I just thought… well, I began to realize how rude I was, especially to Clive, and also to you, and…"

James couldn't help thinking her adorable as she rambled. Her cheeks were flushing now, and she was twisting her hands in front of her as she rocked on the balls of her feet. As he watched, his realized his face must have softened because her lips curved up in a small smile.

"It was very kind of you, Lily. I will definitely give these to Clive, and I'm sure he will appreciate them as well."

"Oh good!" Lily exhaled. "Well, I hope I'm not keeping you from important police work."

"Only the most important kind," James told her seriously, before adding: "Lunch."

Lily's face, which had straightened out in anxiety promptly relaxed again as James smiled. She ran her hands through her hair, laughing, before they once again began twisting in front of her.

"Well I should let you get to it then… I'm sorry I never caught your first name."

"James."

"James… It's nice to meet you officially. I'm Lily."

"I know," James told her, attempting to hide his growing smile. Bloody hell, this girl is cute when she's flustered.

Lily looked mortified, and was slow in hiding the fact. "Right. Well. Thanks, James…"

And without another word, she whirled around on her heel and, in a near sprint, headed back down the sidewalk from once she came. James, for the first time confident about Lily, took a few steps to follow her before calling to her. She stopped in mid-step before turning back around.

"Yes?"

He closed the distance between them so he wouldn't have to raise his voice. "I know the circumstances in which we met were… interesting—"

"—to say the least—"

"—indeed—but nevertheless, would you want to go get dinner sometime…with me…?"

The pleased expression on her face told her what he needed to know, but hearing her instant, forced-casual "Yes" was certainly no disappointment either.

"Excellent."

James and Lily exchanged numbers, both gloriously failing at hiding their beaming faces, and bid each other farewell. But just as they were parting, Lily drew James' attention again.

"You aren't going to tell anyone how we met, are you? Like your mates or anyone...?"

"Lily, you have called into question what kind of man I am! So, I want you to listen very carefully to what I am going to say."

Hopeful, Lily prompted: "Yes, James?"

"I am going to tell everyone how we met."

Lily's jaw dropped as she watched James, grinning, stride across the street. When he reached the other side, he paused to look at her shocked face and laughed.

"Oy! I want those biscuits back!" she called, her cheeks reddening and her mouth half-grinning – a mixture of furious, embarrassed, and pleased.

"Too late! See you for our date, Evans!" he yelled back.

Even from a distance she could see the mischievous glint in his eye. And God help her, but she loved it.