AN: Unfortunately I won't be able to update on Thursday since it's Thanksgiving. Still, I wish you lots of joy and peace over the holiday. If you don't celebrate Thanksgiving, I wish you joy and peace as well in the upcoming week.

Thank you so much for all your support! Whether you review, favorite, or just read, you all make my day. I am thankful for every one of you!

It never occurred to Severus that Hermione's boyfriend may have less than pure intentions. Perhaps he was the perfect gentleman when they were together, but it was too soon to determine whether or not he was interested in having a loving relationship with her, or if he was someone who used women only to toss them aside. For all Severus knew, her new boyfriend had a wife and children and was a known womanizer. Hermione may be an unwitting mistress, or could be dating someone who had three other girlfriends, all of whom were enraptured by his suave appearance and smooth speech. Someone needed to investigate this boyfriend in order to ensure he was who he said he was, lest Hermione be hurt once more.

Granted, getting Hermione to consider that her new boyfriend was anything less than perfect would be difficult. Alerting her of this possibility would be trickier still. The last thing he wanted to do was imply she was an idiot. She was far from idiotic, a fact he loved about her. Still, love blinded even the brightest of people. He would need to proceed with caution if he wanted to succeed in his goal of causing Hermione to doubt that her new boyfriend was Mr. Perfect.

"I swear the book sellers from Sacramento are getting more and unreasonable," Hermione took a piña colada from his hand. "I spent an hour on the floo trying to get them to bring their prices down to a reasonable level. It was grueling and obnoxious to hear them repeat the same points ad nauseam. I swear if I hear the word, 'inflation' one more time I'm going to throw something across the room."

"I assume you were successful in your mission though," he poured the mixture from the blender into his poco grande glass.

"If I wasn't I'd be drinking straight rum, not treating myself to a wonderfully made cocktail." She slumped onto the chair. "Of all the mornings to decide to be difficult, it had to be the one where I woke up frustrated."

"Why did you awaken frustrated?"

She bit her lip while her eyes shifted to her right. Under his gaze, she squirmed as if she was a second year who'd just been caught stealing potions ingredients and had been turned into a part feline hybrid.

"Hermione," he drawled. "Are you well?"

"Yes," she returned her attention to him.

"Is there something I should know about?"

"No, no," she was more emphatic than usual. "I'm just irritated because this morning Melonie decided to blast 'Love Me Tender' and scream along with it as loudly as she could."

"How does one scream 'Love Me Tender?'" He raised an eyebrow as he sat across from her.

"I have no idea," she shook her head. "All I know is that I lost a much needed half an hour of sleep due to her sing-shouting."

"You said her vocal technique has improved."

"It has, though you wouldn't have known it this morning. She was too distracted to notice that she wasn't breathing from the diaphragm and was becoming pitchy."

He hummed.

"Of all the Elvis songs she could've played, that had to be the one I least wanted to hear too," Hermione groaned.

"Why didn't you want to hear it? I thought you didn't mind that song."

"Most days I don't mind it, but today it grated on me. It is so soft and slow. I want something with a little more energy first thing in the morning."

"So you're a 'Burning Love' kind of person?"

"That's a little too much energy for me for six in the morning," she admitted. "'Heartbreak Hotel' I could tolerate at that hour."

"Perhaps you should put in a request for 'Heartbreak Hotel.' 'Jailhouse Rock' wouldn't be terrible to listen to that early in the morning either."

"I'll consider telling her that," she gave him a small smile.

He raised his glass, "to Elvis' many wonderful hits, which thankfully outweigh his less than stellar ones."

She raised her glass, "to the Elvis impersonators who can carry a tune."

They clinked their glasses together. Both took a sip of their piña coladas, enjoying each other's presence.

"Hermione," he cleared his throat.

She hummed.

"I have spent some time thinking about your new boyfriend," he began in the voice he used as a professor explaining a complex concept.

"Why would you spend any time thinking about him?" She cocked her head.

"I think about various things when there are few customers and I am alone at my counter."

"Like which is the best Platonic dialogue."

"That requires little Symposiumis by far the best Platonic dialogue."

"You're a man who likes to discuss the nature of love?"

"I don't mind meditating upon love every now and then," he admitted. "Just because I have never been loved doesn't mean I don't imagine what it would be like for someone to love me."

"You don't think Helen could ever love you?" she asked.

"I do not know. We've only known each other for a few weeks. That is much too little time to know if she could love me, and if I could love her in return."

"I suppose so."

"Don't you agree that it's better to know someone for a few months at minimum before giving your heart to them?"

"Yes," she drawled.

"Then I strongly suggest you consider whether your boyfriend is worthy of your trust and affection," he continued.

"Excuse me?" She furrowed her eyebrows.

"I understand that you want to be loved. Everyone wants to be loved Still, love often blinds people to their lover's faults. It can make even the brightest person a dunderhead."

"What are you saying?"

"I am saying love can make even a brilliant woman as yourself ignore reality and behave like a dunderhead.

"Are you calling me a dunderhead?" She slammed her fist on the table.

"No," his voice was even, "I am simply advising you to be careful with your heart."

"How careful do you want me to be?"

"How careful do you think you should be?"

"I don't know," there was a gleam in her eyes. "A few kisses never hurt anyone. I quite like it when a man holds me in his arms and kisses me senseless every now and then."

"What?" Severus' body temperature skyrocketed as his muscles tightened.

"You heard me," she smirked. "I like being kissed."

"Have you been kissed by him?" It had been years since Severus had wanted to hex the balls of anyone. Still, if he ever got a hold of Hermione's boyfriend, he'd show him exactly what he thought of him kissing his best friend.

"Why do you want to know?" She took a sip of her drink.

He took a deep breath in a vain attempt to calm himself. Still, the image of her kissing a James Potter clone clouded his sense, dispelling all rational thought from his mind.

"Do you want to know if I've been kissed?" She had the audacity to smirk at him.

He took another deep breath, trying to expel the image from his mind. "No, I don't. I don't want to know if he's kissed you."

"Are you certain?" She took a sip of her drink. "Perhaps I've already kissed him."

"If you are kissing him already, then you are proceeding too quickly."

"I am?"

"Yes."

"What about you? Are you saying you haven't kissed your new girlfriend?"

That flicker of something in her eyes was the only cue Severus needed to grin. "What if I have? Would you care if I've kissed her with all the passion I can muster?"

"No," she scoffed and folded her arms over her chest. "I don't care if you've kissed her at all."

"Are you certain?" He leaned closer to her. "Doesn't it bother you that I may have my lips on that of another woman?"

Her face was rouge as her frown deepened. She growled, "No, I don't care one bit if you're kissing another woman."

"Does it bother you that I write her love letters?"

"No, because my boyfriend writes me love letters too. They are quite erotic and beautiful."

Severus' chest ached at the idea of her gushing over another man's writing. "Are they poetic or are they a glorified Hallmark card?"

"They are quite poetic, like a Shakespearean sonnet."

Severus gritted his teeth together. There was that smug expression again. Merlin he wanted to get his hands on this man and show him where he could stick his love poems.

"I could write better letters than he can," He ground out.

"Prove it."

"How?"

"Write me a love poem."

"I can't do it now."

"Why not?"

"Because I have to think before I write."

"How much time do you need to think?"

"More than twenty seconds."

"He writes me back within hours of our meetings."

"Good for him." Severus huffed. "He probably had time to write after he put his children to bed."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Hermione snapped.

"It means for all you know he's a dirty, rotten, immoral cheater."

"Do you have proof of that, or are you just saying things?"

"I'm just bringing up possibilities."

"How do you know they're true possibilities?"

"I know men," he snorted. "Most of us are incapable of appreciating a woman such as you."

"Oh, and you can?" She retorted.

"Of course I can. You're here, aren't you?"

She blinked.

"If I didn't want you here, you wouldn't be here."

"If you wanted me here you wouldn't be patronizing me the way you are."

"I'm not trying to patronize you. I'm trying to protect you like I aways have and always will," he continued.

She stood and put a finger in his chest. "Maybe I don't want or need your protection."

"Fine! Just don't come crying to me when he runs off with a Quidditch groupie and splatters your faults all over the Vegas papers!" He retorted.

The second Severus uttered those words was the second he regretted them. His body went numb as Hermione's eyes went wide.

"I," his voice was soft, "I didn't mean that. That, that didn't come out right. I swear I didn't mean to bring that up."

"Yes, you did," she hissed. "You meant it exactly how it sounded. You meant to bring it up. You wanted to hurt me and you did."

"Hermione, I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't mean it the way you think I did."

She grabbed her drink and rushed to the door.

"Hermione wait!"

"No!" She shouted, not turning around.

"Hermione," he rushed in front of her and blocked the doorway.

"Get out of my way!"

"No, you're carrying my favorite glass," he sounded pathetic, and he knew it. Still, if he needed to get on his knees and beg her to stay he would. The last thing he needed was for this night to become the worst of his life.

"I'm having my drink to go!" Her eyes were hard as steel.

"Please," he folded his hands. "Please just hear me out."

"Why should I?" She stomped her foot.

"Because I know I screwed up," he put his head into his hands and groaned. "I know I screwed up and I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorrier than words can express and I'm pleading for your forgiveness."

He couldn't look up. If he did she may be gone. The last thing he wanted to see was an empty room.

"I'm sorry too."

He made eye contact with was there. Somehow against all reason, she was still in his sitting room.

"I shouldn't have thrown my new boyfriend in your face," she sighed. "I guess I got caught up in the moment and played with your emotions, which wasn't right. I was horrible to you. I wanted to rile you up, and I did. Really, I deserved that comment."

"No," his voice was soft, "no, you didn't deserve to have Cindy thrown in your face like that."

"Initially you weren't trying to do were trying to protect me. I appreciate that, more than words can express." A genuine smile crept across her face, "Most people don't look out for me. They assume I can do everything on my own, so they sit back and allow me to make a fool of myself. It's nice to have a friend who I know will always have my back and protect me if I'm about to make a questionable decision."

"Do you want me to remain your friend even when I say hurtful things?"

"In your defense, that was the most hurtful thing you've said since we've become friends. Given how long we've been friends and that it wasn't so terrible in context, you have an excellent track record."

"I don't know if I'd say that."

"I would."

His lips curled upwards.

"Severus," she put a hand on his shoulder. "I think we're both afraid of losing each other, and aren't finding the most productive ways of expressing that. We're allowing our insecurities to talk instead of communicating with each other."

"True," he clasped her hand in his. "But I do want you to be careful with your heart. If he hurts you, I will find him and hex his balls off."

"I could say the same about your girlfriend," she replied. "If she hurts you, I will put a scar on her forehead that says, 'CHEATER.'"

"Duly noted," Severus chuckled as he released her hand.

"I don't want to fight with you," Hermione put her arms around him. "You're the one person I never want to fight with. One of the reasons I turn to you is because we don't fight and scream at each other over every little thing. I hope that will never change."

"I hate fighting with you too," He enveloped her in his arms. "You are the one person who gives me peace. My life would be empty without you."

"My life would be empty without you too."

Severus hummed as he ran his fingers through her hair. Her hair was soft, much softer than most people believed it to be. If he could run his fingers through her hair every morning when he woke up and every night before he fell asleep, he'd be the most ecstatic man in the world.

"Let's promise each other that no matter how serious things get with our partners, we'll still talk things through and find time for each other," she continued.

"I promise you that I will always talk things through with you, and there will always be a place for you in my life," he answered.

"I will promise you that too." She relaxed in his embrace.

Severus held her closer.

For the first time that day, his frustration subsided. Hermione was in his arms, right where she belonged. She'd forgiven him, something nobody else had done.

In that moment, things were as close to perfect for him as they'd ever been.