Title: Unexpected Grace
Author: Cocoa-Snape
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs exclusively to JKR...she is a goddess. I am making no money from this.
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Unexpected Grace by Cocoa-Snape
Chapter 3: Perfect subtle tea
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Albus Dumbledore never found life at Hogwarts commonplace, but this school year was certainly a far cry from ordinary, even by normal standards. The triwizard tournament had unexpectedly become the quad-wizard tournament and the signs were all too evident that Voldemort's return would be imminent. Not the least of which, and certainly the most damning, was the return of his Potions Master's Dark Mark.
In addition to all the puzzles his mind was working through at any given moment (such as who had slipped Harry's name into the Goblet of Fire and why), Dumbledore found himself immersed in countless personal conflicts as well. He never thought that Alastor Moody would get along with Severus, but the insults and ill-will between the men only heightened as the year wore on. And tonight's dinner was certainly no exception.
Remembering suddenly that he needed to feed his beloved blast-ended skrewts, Hagrid all but leapt from the Head Table, bumping Minerva McGonagall's hand and causing her to spill her glass of pumpkin juice all over Alastor Moody's coat.
"Oh Alastor. My apologies," Minerva said quickly, handing him a napkin.
"No problem, my dear lady. It'll wash out. It's only juice after all…" Moody began, his voice deceptively neutral. "Not like other stains that are quite impossible to get rid of."
"Alastor," Dumbledore cautioned in a whisper.
Moody ignored him. Turning his head to stare Snape directly in the eye, he added in a more menacing tone, "Of course you would know about those, wouldn't you, Snape?"
Snape shot up from his chair, shot Moody a menacing glare and quickly swept from the Great Hall through the rear entrance.
"Alastor, that was uncalled for," Dumbledore admonished sharply.
"I can't help it if he's overly sensitive, now can I?" he replied to no one in particular.
Dumbledore calmly stood up as well, and made to follow his Potions Master. By the time he opened the rear door, he noticed that Severus was nearly all the way down the long corridor.
"Severus," Dumbledore called out. But Snape made no effort to respond as he continued down the hall.
"Severus please," Dumbledore tried again, this time noticing with exasperation that instead of slowing down, Snape had in fact sped up slightly.
Dumbledore spoke sharply, "Severus, please don't make me run after you."
That stopped the man dead in his tracks. It took a few moments before Dumbledore finally caught up with Snape, whose back remained turned to the elder wizard, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.
Several seconds later came the soft, but unmistakably angry voice, "He searched my quarters again, Headmaster."
Headmaster. Indeed, Dumbledore noted, Snape was very angry. When the two were alone, Severus reserved that appellation for moments of anger or apology.
Dumbledore sighed deeply, before beginning gently, "Severus, we have had this conversation and—"
The final bit of evidence that Snape was angry at Dumbledore came from his uncharacteristically sharp interruption of the Headmaster, "Potter's been raiding my cupboards again and you let that deranged man search me! As if I am to blame?"
"Severus, first of all, you have no evidence that Harry was in your storeroom…"
"I know it was him. He's stolen other things from me before. And who else would it be? I found that blasted egg of his that same night."
"Severus, that doesn't mean—"
Snape spun around sharply, his dark eyes gleaming, "Why do I even bother? Even if I caught him red-handed you'd just pat him on the head, tell him to behave and send him on his merry way."
"Severus…"
"Please spare me the excuses, Headmaster. Just go on and defend your precious little Gryffindors, like you always do," Snape spat.
"Now, Severus, are you talking about Harry or James?"
"Don't you try to turn this back on me…"
"Severus…"
"No!" Snape intoned forcefully, raising his voice slightly, "I'm not going to stand for this another minute…"
"Severus, get control of yourself this instant," Dumbledore said with calm authority. He waited a moment, allowing the force of his words to register and watched as Snape unclenched his fists, apparently stunned by his own rudeness.
A moment later Dumbledore said, "I never gave Alastor permission to search your quarters, Severus."
Dumbledore's words left Snape looking startled, his anger suddenly gone, replaced with something else entirely. Dumbledore's penetrating gaze was trained on Severus's eyes, trying to read his all but unreadable face.
Snape whispered softly, "He said that you told him to keep an eye out…"
"I didn't mean on you, my dear boy," Dumbledore replied gently.
No answer.
Dumbledore continued, becoming worried about Severus's sudden turn in mood.
"Severus, his comments were uncalled for, but you know the man isn't all there and it has never bothered you like this before. I will speak with him, but it seems I no longer have his confidence. We both know that it will do little."
"So I'm just supposed to sit there and take it?" Snape asked sharply, the anger reentering his eyes.
"I don't expect you'd ever sit there and take anything, Severus. Now, please tell me what's wrong."
"You know damn well what's wrong."
"There is far more than you're telling me. Did Alastor say something else to you?"
"Should he have? Isn't what he said enough?"
"Severus, please. You know very well I didn't mean it like that."
Silence.
Dumbledore continued, "Severus, why don't we discuss this over tea?"
"You'll have to excuse me, Headmaster," Snape replied coldly, "I am busy."
Dumbledore watched as Snape stalked off, leaving him with yet another puzzle to solve.
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Fortunately for Dumbledore, Snape accepted his invitation to tea the following evening. Despite Dumbledore's concerned queries, however, he was not very forthcoming. Snape remained obstinately silent under the Headmaster's insistent gaze. Dumbledore carefully suppressed his smile of amusement as he watched Severus drinking his tea almost angrily – as only Severus Snape could do.
Dumbledore decided to make another attempt in engaging Severus in conversation. "I spoke with Alastor this morning. I'm not entirely sure how much good it will do regarding his behavior towards you. But I told him that if he ever falsely mentioned me as an accomplice in his plots, I would make his life very…unpleasant."
Silence.
Finally, Snape spoke, "I apologize, Headmaster, for my behavior yesterday. It was…"
"Please, Severus, I haven't asked you here to censure you. I think you can call me Albus."
More silence.
Releasing a frustrating sigh, Dumbledore said, "Severus, will you tell me what's the matter?"
Hesitantly, Snape began, "I told him that you trusted me, that you would never authorize a search."
Back to this again, Dumbledore thought. He had been certain that there was something more.
"Severus, I didn't authorize anything."
Snape put his hand up, and shook his head, gently telling Dumbledore that that wasn't what he had meant. He began again, his voice soft and uncertain, "But I think he knew…knew I wasn't sure – the way he taunted me."
"Don't ever doubt my trust in you, Severus. I have to say, you're worrying me, dear boy. You look quite unsettled." Dumbledore too found himself slightly unsettled by the vulnerability in Severus's eyes; it was very unlike his Potions Master.
His statement seemed only to further increase the worry lines on the younger man's face. Snape snapped abruptly, "And you know that how, exactly?"
"You look worried."
"Is that so? So, I'm just that obvious?" Snape huffed.
"Hardly," Dumbledore replied.
"Were you reading me just then?" Snape asked harshly.
"No. You know that I would never do that without your permission, Severus." And suddenly the puzzle was becoming clearer. Voicing his deduction, Dumbledore half-asked, half-asserted, "You're worried about Voldemort…seeing the truth in you."
Snape shook his head in renewed frustration, "Merlin, Albus, I'm just an open book!"
"Oh dear boy, that is the last thing you are. I was simply using some deductive reasoning and yes," Dumbledore admitted, "the worry was evident in your face, but Severus, I daresay I know you very well. And you're not trying to hide from me – most of the time."
"Hmm. You say that as if it's a good thing."
"It is. I am glad that you feel comfortable around me. And I can't tell you how happy it makes me that you indulge me with the occasional smile, although those are rare these days."
"There's nothing to smile about."
"Indeed. Very little." A moment later, Dumbledore added, "You are an excellent Occlumens, Severus."
"Hmm."
With a pronounced twinkle in his eyes and a smile on his face, Dumbledore attempted to lighten the mood. "I remember a time when I wasn't certain if you were happy I hired you or if you were secretly fantasizing about murdering me ever time I invited you to tea."
Barely a beat later, Snape suppressed his smile and replied stone-faced, "How do you know it wasn't both?"
"Ahh see! I cannot be sure if you're joking with me or not," Dumbledore replied with a chuckle. And then added, "All joking aside, Severus, what are your worries?"
Snape paused a moment to consider the question and then replied hesitantly, "I am undoubtedly rusty. Contending with deranged Aurors is a far cry from the Dark Lord."
"Well then, let's set aside some time and you can practice."
"Practice?" Snape asked in surprise.
"Yes. Rumor has it I am an accomplished Legilimens," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes positively sparkling.
Accomplished Legilimens, Snape huffed mentally. Only the best. But the thought of Dumbledore in his head again was a discomfiting one. It had been a very long time.
"I don't know, Albus," Snape said slowly, his distress at Dumbledore's proposal evident.
Dumbledore replied softly, "I promise I'll be gentle with you, Severus."
Snape wasn't sure exactly why those words made him feel so uncomfortable, but he quashed the feeling and replied with a glint of amusement, "That's what you said 14 years ago."
Dumbledore began to laugh and Severus soon followed suit.
"Ah…but I was lying back then."
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The very next evening as Snape sat down on the familiar red couch in the Headmaster's sitting room, not without considerable apprehension, he thought about Dumbledore's offer to refresh his Occlumency skills.
He knew that this would be nothing like it was 14 years ago, where they had spent most of their time learning how to stop the invasion, and expel the invading Legilimens. Their lessons had been rushed and they had only begun to address the more subtle aspects of Occlumency, which was, of course, the key to fooling Voldemort. Fortunately for Snape, he had a natural aptitude for the magical art.
Snape knew all too well that even attempting to prevent the Dark's Lord intrusion into his mind would be suicide. Not only would it advertise that he was hiding something, but eventually (under the proper conditions) the Dark Lord would break his mind open like an egg. The trick was to pretend that he was freely baring his mind, allowing Voldemort to examine it at his leisure, but yet exert enough control to selectively reveal and conceal what he desired.
No, the key was not brute force, but clever intellect and quick-witted instinct. Snape knew he would have to become a master of seamless collage, fluidly weaving images, thoughts, emotions and memories into a satisfying, apocryphal image.
This would take focus and concentration and tremendous skill. Not muscle or dark curses. This was subtlety at its finest – controlling illusion and shadow. This was art.
After finishing his cup of tea, Dumbledore leaned back in his armchair and said, "Shall we begin then?"
"Here?" Snape asked in disbelief, looking around the sitting room.
"I don't imagine you'll need the floor this time," Dumbledore prodded. Snape shot back a menacing glare, belied entirely by the smile in his eyes. Both were thinking about the countless times in their Occlumency lessons of 14 years ago that Snape had ended up lying prostrate on Dumbledore's office floor.
Snape replied with a smirk, "So you don't plan on smacking me in the face again then, Albus?" Snape did enjoy reminding Dumbledore of the time he had entered his mind with such force that he had been knocked unconscious. The Headmaster had given him a hard smack across the face to get him to start breathing again.
"You will never let me live that down, will you, Severus?" Dumbledore shook his head as if in frustration, but beamed an even larger smile.
"I couldn't resist, Albus. It's been such a long time since I've had an opportunity to bring it up."
"Are you ready?"
"I suppose," Snape replied nervously.
The two men remained seated, and neither drew their wand. Dumbledore could enter wandlessly with reasonable force and Snape needed to be able to defend against the intrusion without a wand, using only his mind. One couldn't, after all, hex the Dark Lord.
"How should we begin?" Snape asked, taking a last sip of his tea.
"I want you to show me how wonderful your childhood was," Dumbledore said simply.
"Excuse me?" Snape nearly spat out his tea.
"Your wonderful childhood, Severus. I want to see it." Snape realized that Dumbledore wanted him to somehow spin the horror of a childhood he had had into something delightful.
"Are you trying to BREAK me on the first go, Albus?"
"Surely you're beneath anything less complicated, Severus. I'll give you a minute to get yourself organized."
"A minute won't be enough and it's a minute I wouldn't have," Snape protested.
"Nonetheless, it is our 'first go' as you put it, and besides, I have all the faith in your stalling tactics, Severus. You can be quite charming when you try."
"Is that so?" Snape asked with a raised eyebrow.
"I don't know. Can you tell if I'm lying?" Dumbledore asked with a twinkle in his eyes.
Snape threw him a playful scowl and attempted to collect his thoughts and steady his mental walls. Several moments later – certainly not a minute later, Snape noted in frustration – Dumbledore whispered without warning, "Legilimens."
Dumbledore could feel how jarred Severus was by his entry, which he presumed to be the first penetration of the younger wizard's mind in over 13 years. Severus hadn't tried to prevent it, of course, that wasn't the point of this game, but Dumbledore noted that he had composed himself admirably.
And as the images began to flow over him and he witnessed Severus's clever arrangement of thoughts, memories, and emotions, he could not help but be impressed at Severus's skill. He knew very well that the memories he was seeing had been carefully selected, rare happy moments that Severus could attribute to his youth. But they were arranged in such a way that Severus made them appear haphazard, almost as though his mind were swimming through a myriad of happy memories, each a testimony to his 'delightful' childhood.
Dumbledore pressed his mind against Severus's a bit harder, demanding more detail. Severus responded in the blink of an eye.
A young Severus Snape, about five years old is being dressed in formal wizarding robes by a beautiful woman, with long black hair. "Do you like these robes, Severus?" she asks. "Yes mommy." She brushes off imaginary lint off the boy's robes and says, "You're going to be the handsomest boy at your uncle's wedding."
Suddenly a new memory appeared in front of Dumbledore.
A much older Severus, about 14 years, standing in front of his mother, who looks a great deal older than she should.
Noting Severus's age, Dumbledore realized that this must have taken place around the time of her death. Nonetheless, the overriding emotion of the memory is happiness and Dumbledore couldn't help but feel that Severus was tinkering with the memory.
Slowly, the woman removes a platinum chain and amulet from her neck and places it in her son's hand. "I want you to have this. Something to remind you of your mother when you're away at Hogwarts. I love you so very much, Severus."
With a flash, Dumbledore is witnessing something else.
The sorting hat is placed on Severus's head. His face is anxious, but the hat shouts almost instantly, "Slytherin." Severus smiles.
A much younger Severus, about 6 by Dumbledore's guess, is wide-eyed with excitement as he shouts, "Can I try it again mommy? Please!" Looking around carefully, his mother replies, "Alright then, but let's keep this between us, Severus. All right?" Severus nods, "Yes mommy. I promise." She hands the boy her wand and he swishes and flicks with definite skill, intoning, "Wingardium Leviosa." He levitates the cup easily and guides it carefully across the room. The pride in his mother's eyes is unmistakable and she exclaims, "Remarkable, Severus! My you are a quick study!"
Dumbledore decided to make the task a bit more challenging. He maneuvered suddenly to face an obscured facade, unguarded. Dumbledore knew that it concealed Severus's memories of his father and he set about to gain entry. Severus was taken momentarily aback, as the wall receded infinitesimally under Dumbledore's approach, but he quickly recovered. Subverting Dumbledore's attempts, he sent the Legilimens an alternate memory of his father.
Severus, age 11, enters Ollivander's shop with a tall dark man. The man's nose is unmistakably Severus's and there can be no doubt that it is his father. Severus's eyes widen in wonder at the shelves stacked with wands. The memory skips ahead and with a glint in his eyes, Ollivander hands Severus another wand to try, "Thirteen and a half inches, black walnut with a dragon-heart string core. Very rare." Severus flicks the wand and levitates Ollivander's desk for a long moment before releasing it. Ollivander's eyes widen at the young man's skill and control. "You must be very proud," Ollivander says to the man. Severus's father turns and replies with a smile, "Yes very. His mother and I both."
Ah, and there it was, Dumbledore thought. The first fake memory. Not all of it was fake of course, but Dumbledore was certain that Severus had constructed parts of it. Nonetheless, to Severus's credit, Dumbledore could not be sure and he would have not suspected Severus's tampering had he not been keenly aware that Tobias Snape would have never set foot in Ollivander's shop. Severus didn't speak of his childhood much, but Dumbledore knew his father was not the type to encourage his son in his wizarding education.
But there was no time for such musings as Severus was sending him yet another memory.
Now, age 10, Severus falls off a speeding broom. The memory skips forward and Severus's mother is leaning over his bruised face. Her face is obscured, and she speaks in a soft hoarse voice, "You're such a brave boy, Severus. So much braver and so much stronger than your mother could ever be. You're going to be a great wizard one day, a great wizard. I know you are, my darling."
Although the content of the memory and the emotions it exuded were masterfully put together, Dumbledore sensed that something was amiss. Exerting considerable pressure, Dumbledore ascertained that, as he suspected, the memory was overlaid with false emotions. While Severus was projecting this memory as a happy one, a moment of pride between mother and son, it was in fact a very sad memory for Severus. And Dumbledore knew instantly that Severus hadn't gotten those bruises from falling off a broom.
Releasing himself from Severus's mind, Dumbledore said, "Very well done, Severus. I think some fresh tea is in order." Dumbledore snapped his fingers and the pot was replenished. He poured them both some tea and the two drank in silence.
After several minutes, Dumbledore spoke, "It has been many years, but I don't recall the sorting hat having such an easy time with you."
Snape was pleased. Even Dumbledore could not be certain of the memory's authenticity.
"Would you like to see it, Albus?"
"If you would not mind sharing it with me."
Taking another sip of his tea, Snape sent Dumbledore the real memory.
The sorting hat is placed on Severus's head, his face anxious. "Difficult. Difficult. Oh…you are a tough one, indeed. My first instinct was to put you in Ravenclaw, but you are so much more than brains. Yes, indeed. One rarely sees such bravery in one so young. Yes, perhaps Gryffindor then. You would serve them well. Hmm, but you are an ambitious one aren't you? Yes, so eager to prove yourself! In Slytherin, you could become great indeed. So what's it to be? Gryffindor or Slytherin?"
Severus's mind rushes back to the memory of his mother, telling him, this time her face visible, with tears running down it, "You're going to be a great wizard one day, a great wizard. I know you are my darling."
The boy of 11 asks the sorting hat, "Please Slytherin." The hat complies, shouting loudly, "Slytherin."
Dumbledore reflected on this new information, surprised that he was only learning this now. "I didn't know you asked it to put you in Slytherin. Do you regret that decision?"
Snape paused a moment considering the loaded question before replying, "In some ways yes. In others no."
Dumbledore once again broke the tension as only he could, "To think," he began with a broad smile, "you were nearly a Gryffindor."
Snape eyed Dumbledore and warned the elder wizard, "If that gets out Albus…"
"I am the model of discretion, my boy."
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Over the next few weeks, both men met regularly for Occlumency sessions over tea. But in addition to these meetings, Dumbledore routinely tested the firmness and stability of Snape's mental walls using subtle Legilimency, often to Snape's utter exasperation. Albus Dumbledore was a master at subtle Legilimency, being able to read someone's feelings and sometimes thoughts without the use of the uttered Legilimens spell. This technique had the virtue of leaving the subject unaware of the invasion. Since Dumbledore's ethics prohibited him from routinely using this method on others, Snape noted that Dumbledore seemed to be making up for these lost opportunities with him.
The Headmaster would brush Snape's mind at the most random moments, in the halls as the two men passed, during staff meetings and at meals, often to the confusion of others present on those occasions. Minerva in particular was aware that the two seemed to be communicating tacitly – and tonight's dinner was no exception.
Midway through their meal, Snape suddenly noticed that a very healthy helping of mashed potatoes appeared on his plate. He looked around, slightly alarmed.
To his right, Dumbledore remarked evenly, but with a conspicuous twinkle of victory, "You were thinking, weren't you, Severus, that you wanted some more mashed potatoes?"
Snape snorted and scowled at the elder wizard in annoyance, angry more at himself for letting Dumbledore enter his mind without having been aware of it. He paused for a few seconds, strengthened his mental walls and began eating the potatoes. Barely a moment later a pork chop also appeared on his plate.
"Now I wasn't thinking any such thing!" Snape huffed so loudly that Minerva turned her head in order to ascertain the reason for the sudden outburst.
When she restarted her conversation with Pomona, Dumbledore leaned slightly towards Snape and whispered very close to his ear, "I know. But you should eat, dear boy. You are becoming frightfully thin."
Seconds later, a message appeared pressed in Dumbledore's mashed potatoes, 'meddler.'
Dumbledore began chuckling loudly, and with Minerva now shrewdly eying the pair, Dumbledore ate his mashed potato message with secret enthusiasm.
Snape maintained his grimace at Dumbledore's behavior. Although he acted annoyed every time the superior Legilimens sensed a weakness, he was, in fact, inexplicably grateful for the extra help. He didn't know if it would actually do any good, but it kept him on his toes throughout the day – something he knew he had to get used to once again. But more than that, these sessions with Albus distracted him from what was coming and he found some small measure of comfort knowing that at least he was doing something to prepare. As if one could ever prepare for what lie ahead, Snape thought.
That same evening, Snape's frustration resurfaced as he sat drinking tea in Dumbledore's sitting room.
"Your guard is slightly lax, Severus," Dumbledore said softly, referring to Snape's mental defenses.
Snape raised his eyebrows, before replying in astonishment, "You're having me on, Albus. I don't feel it."
"It's imperceptible."
"Then how do you know?" Snape asked in clear annoyance.
"Well," Dumbledore acquiesced, "almost imperceptible." Noting the slightly panicked look on Severus's face, he added gently, "I didn't get past anything of consequence."
"Then what did you get out of me?" Snape demanded.
"You want more lemon in your tea, Severus," Dumbledore said softly, directing a piece of lemon to hover over Severus's teacup.
Snape closed his eyes in irritation, as he struggled not to hurl the lemon at the elder wizard's pristine robes. A moment later he sighed and dropped the lemon into his tea.
"Relax, my boy. You are much stronger than you were a month ago."
"Hmm," Snape grunted disbelievingly, fully aware that he would never be strong enough to stop Dumbledore's subtle intrusions.
"However useful this exercise may be, Severus, you know it is a moot point. Tom was never good at subtle Legilimency. Not to mention that it isn't his style."
"True," Snape replied, unsure whether to feel comforted or terrified by the reminder. "He always preferred more forceful methods."
"Another mistake of his," Dumbledore replied.
Snape suppressed his smile, knowing how true Dumbledore's words were. Albus Dumbledore, who commanded loyalty not with fear and intimidation but with kindness and small comforts. Dumbledore, whose powerful weapons were not Unforgivables, but perfectly brewed cups of tea and gentle reassurances. Dumbledore, the only one whom he dared trust when he found his life on the edge of a precipice. Dumbledore, whose control over him had been so masterful, so subtle, it had caught him completely unaware. But somehow, for the first time ever, Snape had found that his vulnerability hadn't mattered, because he knew Dumbledore would not let him fall.
Snape returned to Dumbledore's observation about the usefulness of subtle Legilimency, "You're a master at it though, Albus."
"I confess," Dumbledore began, a sparkle in his eye, "it is one of my strong suits."
"But you don't use it on people, of course," Snape said with friendly sarcasm.
"Of course," Dumbledore mimed.
"Even for innocuous things, Albus?" Snape prodded.
"Such as?"
Hoping to undermine Dumbledore's affirmation, Snape all too skillfully enticed the elder wizard with what he knew to be irresistible bait, "Such as what dessert I'm hankering for?"
Dumbledore paused a moment, and eyed his Potions Master with a serious expression before snapping his fingers. A plate of cardamom scones, Snape's favorite, appeared in front of them on the coffee table. Snape's eyes narrowed in triumph, a smile playing on the corners of his mouth.
Dumbledore replied softly, a glimmer in his voice, "What's the harm in a little intrusion if it's meant to please?"
Snape savored his victory along with the scones.
Dumbledore beamed as he watched Severus enjoying the pastries. Dumbledore had always prided himself on being able to rapidly intuit a person's favorite dessert and tea – especially when they didn't know it for themselves. It had taken less than two weeks to deduce Severus's liking for these scones. They were a perfect match – both intense, almost overpowering, both unique. It was really all too easy, Dumbledore reflected.
Dumbledore remembered that the tea had been a different story entirely. By the end of Snape's third year at Hogwarts, Dumbledore was beginning to think that perhaps he had found the first Englishman who truly loathed tea. But now as he watched Severus wrapping his fingers around the cup, soaking up its heat, and then eagerly lifting it to his lips, he wondered how it could possibly have taken so long for him to see it. Lemon lavender – with balanced tones of bitter and sweet, it was at once potent and delicate. And the scent lingered, much to Dumbledore's delight, long after the two had parted.
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A/N: Please review. I had spare time this week and focused my attention on getting this chapter to you asap, ...but as always, your patience for my haphazard updates is appreciated.
I really hoped you liked this - I adored writing this chapter...everything from the argumentative staff table interactions, to Severus's vulnerability with sharing his youth, to his concern about being rusty at Occlumency, to Albus's sincere concern/help, to the positively adorably playful interactions between these men, to the last bit...which I hope you liked.
I cannot express enough my sincere thanks to all those who have reviewed this story. --Big Hugs-- Every review is so special and so meaningful - really. Please continue to review. I am very interested in hearing what parts moved you the most, made you laugh or smile or whatever. It is very helpful, especially since I haven't even started chapter 4 yet.
I cannot thank my wonderful partner, M, enough for her tremendous work with this chapter. She has really thrown herself into this story of mine and improved my writing as a result.
PLEASE be a darling and review!