At nine twenty-three on the morning, Lily stealthily made her way down the stairs. Like a hunter searching for it's prey. It was a weird analogy, but it seemed to suit the situation.

She paused just outside the kitchen door and listened intently. She wasn't sure whether she was doing this to prepare herself for what lay within, or to convince herself to go back to her nice, warm, comfy bed...melt into the sheets and just sleep for eternity...

Shaking her head roughly to rid herself of this absurd yet strongly appealing idea, Lily sucked in a breath and stepped into the kitchen. And what awaited her was a polite "Good morning," and a pajama clad James who sat at the table eating a bowl of cereal, a newspaper laid in front of him.

Lily released her breath, for once glad that she solely had James Potter in her kitchen. She lingered in the doorway for a moment before taking a seat across from him. 'Morning..."

James smiled crookedly. Lily shifted in her seat. James Potter was seated at her kitchen table and smiling an attractive smile. It was a confident smile. A smile that no one in his position should be smiling. Did he have to be so damn sure of himself all the time?

"What?" Lily asked, her elbow propped up on the table and supporting her head.

He was leaning back in his seat, that infuriating smile still on his face. He shrugged. "Nothing."

Suddenly she was self-conscious. How did her hair look? She tipped her head down to run fingers through her messy bun, and as she did so she realized her bra was sticking out of her low cut bed shirt. She immediately pulled it up and accused, "You were staring at my bra!"

His reaction was not what she expected: he quickly paled, that smile dropping off his face and his eyes widening. "No, no, no—I wasn't, I swear!"

She cocked an eyebrow, impressed at his acting, but still far from convinced.

"I..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I—I was looking at your eyes."

"And why in Merlin's name should I believe that?" She crossed her arms.

James breathed out, and hazel met emerald, and he said quietly, "Because they're beautiful."

She was speechless, and she knew for once be wasn't playing with her, he was being sincere. More sincere than she had ever seen him be.

"Chaps!" Sirius burst in the room with his arms raised at the two of them, breaking the tension harshly: both Lily and James jumped. Sirius sat down at the table, James coughed loudly, and Lily hastily busied herself making a pot of coffee.

"Maggie still asleep?" Sirius asked, leaning back in his seat and threading fingers through his dark hair.

James nodded. "I think so. I swear she could sleep through a nuclear war."

"What?"

"Oh, er—Muggle thing." James shrugged.

Lily leaned her back against the counter and crossed her arms. "I had no idea you actually paid attention in Muggle Studies."

It was true. In class the majority of the time he was all but reminiscent of a person admitted into a psychiatric ward for severe brain damage.

James flashed her that god-awful smile. "Yeah, I just wish Professor Quinn taught us what toilet disks were so we don't use them as mouth fresheners." He looked sideways at Sirius, who retorted nonchalantly with, "It was one lick. And it did make my mouth fresher, by the way."

"Tell that to the next bird you snog."

Lily shook her head at the two of them. There wasn't another pair like James Potter and Sirius Black.

"Right, well, if you're so concerned about my personal hygiene, perhaps I'll go shower." Sirius stood.

"I suggest you do so without the aid of my razor," Lily strictly implored, eyeing him.

"I assure you, I have come well equipped." Sirius flashed her a grin before stepping out of the room.

Lily, realizing she was once again alone with James, turned back towards the coffee that was slowly brewing. A minute passed in silence.

"How do you like it?"

James coughed, lifting his head up from the newspaper he had been pretending to be immersed in. "Pardon me?

"How do you like it?" Lily repeated, turning to face him. It was a pretty simple question. Perhaps he did have brain damage after all...

James looked dumbstruck. "I...I—come again?"

Lily pointed a finger to the coffee pot. "Coffee—how do you like it? You know—black, cream and sugar?"

"Oh...er, cream and sugar."

She raised an eyebrow. "What on earth did you think I meant?"

"I suppose I didn't hear you right—the, er, acoustics in this room are quite unbalanced..." James rambled, hand snaking up to rub the back of his neck.

Lily sighed. "You are staying at my house. You are sleeping in my spare bedroom. You are using my shower. Can you please have something besides sex on your mind for at least the next five days?"

James vigorously shook his head. "I wasn't—I thought you said something about—about how do I like my butter, or cow, or—or..."

She smirked.

He flattened his fringe with one hand. "And so you can see my confusion..."

"Wow. That was bad even for you."

He nodded. "It was, wasn't it?"

Lily nodded with him. She poured two mugs of coffee and retrieved the milk from the fridge, and set that along with a dish of sugar on the table. "You'll have to make do with milk—everyone here drinks theirs black."

"I'll survive." He assured, testing the waters with the tip of his tongue before shuddering at the taste.

"I certainly hope so. I need you alive; I torture my prey before I murder it." She took a sip quite ominously.

"I think I actually just got goose bumps."

"And I think that's actually disgusting."

"What?" James asked as he poured cream and sugar into his coffee like there wasn't a shortage of either somewhere in Africa (or a similar impoverished foreign country).

Lily moved her eyes back and forth between James and his coffee cup. "Do you really have to ask that?"

"I have sensitive taste buds."

"You have sensitive taste buds."

"Yes." James took a sip and made a face before adding more sugar. "And for the record, that sounded a lot manlier in my head." He took another sip, then cradled the mug in his hands, satisfied. His eyes widened and he hastily added, "Not that I can't handle my, you know, drink. I can."

Lily smirked. His face was completely flushed. An embarrassed, rambling James Potter was something she could get used to.

"We'll have to test that theory, shall we?" Lily's smirk disappeared into her mug.

"What theory?" Maggie asked as she stepped into the kitchen, threading fingers through her damp, dark hair. "And thanks for the call for the tea and crumpets." She poured herself a cup of coffee.

"We were just discussing James's sensitive taste buds," Lily grinned. "Apparently it doesn't run in the family."

Maggie sat down with her coffee at the table. "Yeah?" She laughed. "You should see him after a drink."

"Yes, that was our theory." Lily explained, glancing slyly at James.

"Right, well," James began, "if that's a challenge, I accept. I can't drink Mags under the table, but you, Miss Evans, don't stand a chance."

"I don't stand a chance in hell, do I?" Lily turned towards Maggie. "Did I hear that correctly?"

"I never said—"

"I believe you did hear correctly, Lily." Maggie smirked at James. "You should learn not to challenge a lady so condescendingly, Jimmy." Her expression was almost evil as she finished speaking, knowing what embarrassment was in store for her dear cousin (who was now in death row).

Lily smiled too sweetly at James, who appeared to pale ever so slightly as he realized the stakes: his honour. He took a sip of his mug.

"Yes, drink your coffee." Maggie said. "While you can..."

And poor James Potter did drink his coffee. He drank it in muted silence while Maggie and Lily talked and complained loudly about their monthlies, thanking every God there was that he didn't have a sister (though Maggie might as well have been one; half of her belongings were at his house anyway). It was only when Sirius entered the room that they changed the subject, for Sirius would not sit in silence during this specific area of conversation, he would join in and cause as much awkwardness as possible before someone (usually Lily) shoved something in his mouth (usually her fist) to shut him up.

"What are we talking about?" Sirius asked, leaning against the counter, arms crossed. He wore ripped up blue jeans (Lily was beginning to wonder if he owned any jeans without holes) and a tee-shirt with a familiar band on the front.

"You like Pink Floyd?" Lily asked, mildly surprised at this.

Sirius looked down at his shirt. "Oh, no. Remus does though, just must've slipped into my trunk."

"Do you even look at what clothes you're putting on?" Lily asked.

"Not usually," Sirius shook his head. "I find clothes altogether rather confining." He winked.

"So I've seen." Lily smiled tightly. "To my unfortunate displeasure."

"Shall we make plans for the day?" Maggie asked, quite eager to avoid conflict. "I'm up for a run if anyone wants to come along...?

Lily, who was not much one for running, scrunched her nose. Maggie looked at her with wide eyes. Lily sighed. "Fine—but I'm walking."

-...-

At quarter to eleven, Lily stood out in the street in front of her house dressed in a short sleeved white blouse and jean shorts that reached her mid-thigh; not clothes one would expect a runner to support. And in truth, Lily Evans wasn't big on exercise of any sort. It did nothing but mess up her hair and cause large pools of sweat to build up in the pours of her armpits (neither of which she was too fond of).

"You're not even trying," Maggie accused upon seeing her attire.

Perhaps it was genetics, or that was what Lily blamed it on anyway, but Maggie was the complete opposite of Lily when it came to all things exercise related. She ran every morning, had to die for calves, and legs that were, as Lily referred to them, "so abnormally long genetic mutation must be involved." Maggie shared her love of running and her mutant legs with James, who was also dressed to the nines in shorts and sneakers.

"I believe I said I was walking," Lily reminded. "If you follow this road to the end then take a left and a right, you'll come to a common. I'll meet you there."

Maggie bounced on her heels. "You're missing out!" she called over her shoulder as she ran up the street alongside Sirius (who had been stretching not a moment before).

"And I was looking forward to racing you," James teased, falling into step beside Lily as she began to walk along the row of hedges separating the houses and the sidewalk.

"You don't have to—"

"Maybe I'm in the mood to travel at an incredibly slow and inefficient pace."

Lily brushed her hair out of her face. "When you put it like that, who wouldn't be in the mood?"

James considered her for a moment. "You know, I can't tell if you're mocking me."

"Let me stifle your anticipation and put you at ease: I am."

"Ouch." James rubbed his arm as though she had punched him, then he clutched his heart dramatically. "And I didn't know words could actually bruise..."

"You're such a drama queen."

"At least I'm a queen," he pointed out. "What does that make you?"

Lily thought for a moment. "Not Freddie Mercury,"

"Who?"

Lily grinned, "Unfortunately they don't teach that in Muggle Studies."

It brought her some kind of odd satisfaction when she brought up things he didn't know about. He was much to smart for his own good, and it went straight to his head (along with other masculine parts of his body), but when she knew something he didn't, it made him seem less cocky and more sincere. That, and it felt nice to know something he didn't.

"Wait—queen, like the band Queen? Freddie Mercury? Isn't he the lead singer?"

Lily was impressed. Too impressed. Damn, did he have to know everything? "How do you—ah. Remus?"

James nodded. "I do catch bits of his ramblings from time to time, and damn can he go on about his music. Have you seen his records? Mint-fucking-condition, I swear to you. Treats them like his sprogs."

Lily laughed, picturing this. "Yeah?" A thought occurred to her. "Why isn't he staying with you and Sirius? Isn't his permanent vocation to keep you two out of trouble?"

James looked down, hands in pockets. "He certainly has the required skills, fast-talking, quick wit, much too reasonable..."

"Don't be so critical."

"He's fucking brilliant, but that goes without saying. He's caught up at home until Wednesday or so...family stuff." James shrugged.

Lily nodded understandingly, assuming further than James let on. "Right. And does Sirius live with you now?" She laughed slightly.

"Yeah..." James looked at the sky. Lily couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic. He looked down the street, and then at her. Their eyes locked for what she deemed much too long, and she looked away, clearing her throat. He moved his eyes back to the sky. "The sky is really blue today."

She couldn't stop the smile that crept onto her face. He was so horrible at small talk.

"Yes, it is," she agreed, her eyes following a cloud that reminded her of a pumpkin (one with many warts and a very long stem). She looked at the ground. "The pavement is very grey today."

"Okay, now I'm positive you're mocking me."

She looked at him. "What gave me away?"

He grinned and ran a hand through his hair. "Can you maybe say something that doesn't demean my intelligence? Just a suggestion. Might make me feel a bit more confident."

Lily snorted. "Yeah, as if you of all people need confidence."

James stood straighter. "You know, I take high offense to that."

"Shut up."

"May I remind you that I am your guest and should be treated as such?"

"May I point out that your fly is unzipped?"

James looked down, and sure enough it was. He rectified this error and raised an eyebrow at her. "Shall I ask what possessed you to look at that certain location?"

"I will not dignify that question with a response." Lily said through a blush (damn her red hair and pale complexion).

James, merely pleased that she was embarrassed, graciously changed the subject.

"So what the hell is a ferris wheel?"