Author's note: THERE BE SMUT AHEAD. I want to extend my undying thanks to snapslikethis for the prompt that led to this little piece of debauchery. If you like it, you should thank her too.

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- Copilot -

The car lurches as they round a sharp turn on the A82. The sky's a brilliant, endless blue and the windows are open; the road snakes ahead of them, cutting a sharp edge between the mountains and the banks of Loch Ness. Electric guitars are blasting from a record player strapped into the back seat - blasting, because they've been flying down the highway at about a hundred twenty kilometers per hour, and the record player couldn't make itself heard over the roar of the wind until James had reached behind him and put an amplifying charm on the speakers that he and Lily had crammed into the back with their food and sleeping bags. It's July 1978 and there's a war on that they're about to join, but for now, they're borrowing her parents' 1969 Ford Cortina for a four-day camping trip in the Scottish Highlands.

It's a much-needed trip for the both of them. Less than two weeks ago they'd each moved out of their parents' houses and into their respective flats in London, Lily with Mary MacDonald and Marlene McKinnon, and James with Sirius, one floor up from Remus and Peter, and they're worn out from packing and unpacking - but what's really been driving them all stir-crazy is the waiting, the seemingly endless waiting, that comes with having just pledged their lives and loyalty to the Order of the Phoenix. This is the first time James has experienced firsthand the way the organization's iron-fisted exclusivity plays out: As soon as he'd signed his life away, he'd been informed that he was going to be subjected to the most exhaustive background check he'd ever heard of. Criminal history, if there was any; family ties; friendships; ownership of any weapons other than a wand; and political and social beliefs, as much as they could be unearthed by Order detectives. Given the feverish pitch of the war and the fact that the Order functions as an underground strike and resistance force, James can understand why they'd insist on vetting the recruits so thoroughly, but that doesn't make the waiting any easier. Even working on Sirius's motorbike hasn't helped, because Sirius is also waiting to hear from the Order on his background check, and neither of them have been able to concentrate. All week bolts have been breaking and screws being stripped, and at one point James even got a thread chaser caught in the exhaust as he tried to tap a hole he'd drilled a millimeter too small, and couldn't for the life of him get the thing out. It was at that point that Sirius had given the whole thing up as pointless and stated that they all needed to get out of town for a few days. You take Lily and go somewhere interesting, he'd said. Get out and be with her, just the two of you. I'll go with Remus and Peter to Amsterdam or something. We can finish this bike once they're done vetting us; for now let's just go and live a bit.

So James had floated the idea to Lily, who hadn't needed persuading. She'd been in a rather agitated state herself when he'd asked and had just locked herself out of her flat for the fourth time that week, and Mary was worried that the neighbors had begun to notice every time Lily took out her wand and kicked the door open with a frustrated Alohomora - James had hardly finished saying the word 'holiday' before Lily was stuffing her clothes and toothbrush into a rucksack. Three hours later, she'd gotten permission to take her parents' car for the next few days; that same night, they dug her family's camping gear, along with a spare tire, out of the basement and threw it all in the back seat and boot.

And here they are now on the A82, racing away from it all in an old car that clatters but still roars. Lily is driving and James is happy as a pig in shit.

"Oh, I love this song," Lily nearly shouts, the words flying away behind her as her hair whips in her face. "James, turn it up."

He has to dig for a moment to get to his wand (his lap is piled up with a mess of atlases, road maps, Pumpkin Pasties, and Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor Beans), but he's quick enough. The music blares up even more loudly just as the bass drops and the opening riff begins. Lily grins, wraps her fingers around the gear shifter, and pushes down hard on the clutch pedal. The car lurches again as she shifts into fourth gear and presses the accelerator. Off they go.

"God save the Queen!" Lily yells, and James starts laughing. She's bopping her head to the music, tapping her thumb against the map she's got pinned against the steering wheel. Lily's grin widens as she realizes he's laughing at her, because she's actually steering mostly with her knees, and what's more, she's only able to reach the wheel with her knees because she's sitting on a pile of jackets and jumpers, but she's steering with her knees nonetheless. She turns to look him in the eye in that way that she does, singing to him as if she's speaking. "The fascist regime, they've made you a mor-on - potential H-bomb!"

She rolls the r when she says 'moron', and James's brain shuts down for a moment. He sees her lips moving, the strands of red hair sticking right where her bottom lip becomes wet. God save the Queen.

Yes. God save the Queen, because she's got nothing on this girl, James thinks. Then, quite suddenly, Lily's eyes are back on the road, and the car swerves. The packet of Bertie Bott's slides off of James's lap and lands on the gearbox. He blinks; a moment later he realizes it would probably not do to leave the candy sitting where it might get in the way of her driving. He picks it up and tosses it in the back. There.

"Sorry," Lily says, her thumb still drumming on the steering wheel. "Got a bit carried away. Apparently I still can't round a turn without looking at it."

James grins and leans back in his seat. He puts his hands behind his head and enjoys the sensation of wind whipping through his hair. He knows they're both perfectly aware that rounding turns without looking at them is basically impossible, and that that's why she's joking about it.

"How's your bum?" Lily asks. James looks at her. She's got a cheeky look in her eye.

James stretches contentedly, smirking. "A bit saddlesore, if I'm honest. But don't let that stop you."

Lily bites her lip. James catches a tiny wiggle of her eyebrow. They're cresting a hill now, going so fast that he almost wonders if the car will lift itself off the road. Right on cue, Lily pushes the clutch back in and downshifts masterfully. The car seems to exhale as gravity pulls them down, and they fall as if leaning in, and it's fast and beautifully controlled - exactly the way James controls his speed when he's on a broomstick and pulling out of a high-speed dive. He can tell from the way the car is humming that Lily's coasting, her foot nowhere even close to the brake, and he knows that she's showing off just for him.

"It's too bad we never got to see a Sex Pistols show," Lily says, once they're at the bottom of the hill.

Sex Pistols? James thinks. He's been watching how Lily's hand moves on the shifter as she puts the car into high gear again, so takes him a second. When he opens his mouth something amazingly stupid comes out. "That's who we're listening to right now?"

Lily bursts out laughing. "Sirius makes everyone listen to this album at least twice a week, are you really that distracted?"

Yes. Yes, I am. James grins sheepishly. "Just checking."

"I think it's terrible that they broke up. And everyone knows it's McLaren's fault." Lily wrinkles her nose. "Well, maybe everyone except Sirius," she amends.

James thinks back to the first time Sirius decided to play the Sex Pistols on repeat in their dormitory ("To study to, lads, don't act like you don't need help staying awake writing that rubbish History of Magic essay, fuck!"). That had been just a few months shy of a year ago now, right at the beginning of Seventh Year. Sirius had been voraciously consuming Muggle punk rock all summer, smoking cigarettes and soliloquizing endlessly about how Malcolm McLaren - the Sex Pistols' manager - had gotten God Save the Queen banned by the BBC because he'd booked them to play it right next to Parliament at the exact moment that Queen Elizabeth II had had her Silver Jubilee, and fuck if that wasn't the most brilliant and intellectually honest publicity stunt Sirius had ever seen or heard of, and anyway fuck the monarchy, the Muggles had it right, fuck every rich oligarchy ever including the Noble House of Black, guys just shut up and listen, okay, this is the best thing you'll ever hear, etc.

"Yeah," James agrees. "Everyone except Sirius."

"Lydon's apparently recording another album with Public Image, though."

"What's Public Image?"

"Johnny Rotten's new band, James!" Lily exclaims, swatting his elbow with a folded map.

"Oh," James says. "I knew that."

Lily giggles. "Well, anyway, I hope he does something interesting. I think he will. The Pistols were good, but they'd sort of peaked. I think it would be hard to keep their momentum after they got arrested on that barge for playing God Save the Queen during Jubilee. Although that was satisfying," she adds, her voice dropping to a more sober pitch now, "considering how she was having a bloody parade while the value of the pound was basically in the toilet and the government kept trying to cap workers' wages during all those bloody labor strikes. As if that was going to stop the inflation."

"Well, does it?"

"It doesn't matter because we've still got record unemployment, which means people don't get paid! So who cares how much the pound is worth if you haven't got one to begin with?"

There's nothing James can say to that. "Fair enough."

Lily rounds the base of another mountain, smoothly this time, and James can tell from the way her breath seems to wait in her chest that she's not done yet. He reclines in his seat a bit and rubs his thumb in small circles over her knee, feeling it flex as she presses the gas. The music has since quieted a few decibels since his amplifying charm began to wear off, but James doesn't correct it this time.

"Anyway, I'm so glad we managed to get away for a few days," Lily says at last. Her voice is upbeat and casual again, but there's something about the way the sun hits her hair, or maybe it's something in the way her she's focused intently on the road, that just - fuck. Well then.

He opens his mouth to speak, but forgets what he's going to say before the words reach his lips. Lily fills in the gap for him.

"I've been wanting to do this for a while," she says. "But once we signed on with the Order there definitely was no going back. It's a lucky thing my parents are on holiday, because I think if they hadn't been I would've just stolen the car. I mean, I'm antsy. Really antsy. This fight is important to me. But I could walk away, you know. Go back to all my non-magical friends and family and be one of them; I could do that. Maybe try to get myself into a regular university and then get a job at a Muggle company. But I can't. Not after seven years."

She's casually said things like this before, but it's the look on her face and the way the words came tumbling out this time that tells James something's different. He pulls himself together and sits up a little straighter. "Well, why not? You'd still have all of us. There've been loads of Muggle-borns who straddle the line because there're things in both worlds that they want to keep. They don't necessarily choose one side over the other."

"Are you saying you'd follow me? Part way, maybe?"

James leans over the gearbox and kisses her on the cheek. It's awkward and they're turning again so he almost loses his balance, but he manages to get close enough to her ear to almost-whisper. She blushes and giggles. He's sure he looks like a fucking idiot.

"You don't have to ask," he says, more loudly than he'd wanted to, but electric guitars and that bloody wind make it necessary. They hit a bump, and the car bounces so hard that James's head nearly crashes into hers. Deciding that road-snogging is not worth the risk of bodily harm, he returns to the passenger's side and clears his throat.

Lily's eyes still are on the road, but they're wide now, and her lips are a little parted. James suddenly feels dizzy and a little too warm, and he wonders for a second if he's just made a huge mistake - after all, they are speeding down a winding, mountainous highway, and he knows from years of reckless flying that piloting any kind of high-speed vehicle while distracted is a terrible idea and never ends well for anyone - but at the same, time he knows that look; it's the one she gets when she's realized what a state she's got him in, and he's not sure he'd have the willpower to resist even if his life depended on it.

It'll take her a bit to act on it. But she will.

"I don't want to go back," she says after a moment. Her voice falters just the tiniest bit. "I've thought about it. I don't. It's - I'd be complicit if I did."

It's difficult, but James manages to concentrate. "What do you mean?"

"The Queen of England doesn't even know the Dark Lord exists," Lily replies. "Nor does the Prime Minister. They can't help people like me. Don't think I'd want them to, anyway."

"Well, that is fair, I mean just look at Callaghan."

"And I'm always so worried about Elizabeth losing her hat!"

"She does look rather tiny without it," James says seriously.

"Yes. It's a huge problem," Lily says emphatically. "It's very hard to take her seriously when all I can think about is her stupid hat. So, in a nutshell, that's why I'm not going back."

"No it's not," James laughs, because he knows she's joking, and he knows she's doing it because she doesn't want to talk about what she's actually feeling yet, and that's okay. She has time; they have time - and it doesn't matter if she takes until she's eighty to tell him, because he isn't going anywhere. Without thinking, he rakes his hand into her hair and kisses her again, this time full on the mouth, and she gasps a little in surprise, gripping hard at the steering wheel. For a split second James holds his breath, waiting for the swerve.

It doesn't come. Instead, she kisses him back, hard, and it's heady and stupid and dangerous, and all he can think about is the heat and taste of her, and the sudden bite of her teeth on his lip. He feels a flood of heat rush over his body and concentrate in his groin.

Then, as suddenly as she'd kissed him, Lily exhales and shoves him away. James's head swims as he lurches back into the passenger seat. She's pushing her hair out of her face again, fruitlessly. She's flustered. A little breathless.

"Okay," she says, and he can tell that she's struggling valiantly to sound serious. "This isn't going to work. You have to at least try to keep it in your pants. I can't manage you, the wheel, the clutch, the shifter, and the Ferrari behind us all at the same time."

James coughs and tries to be serious as well. "Sorry," he says. Because he is. Sort of. But not sorry enough to sound sincere.

Lily picks up on this right away and swats his hand off her knee, but she's laughing again and that's what betrays her. "You are not sorry," she exclaims. "Hands. Off. In your lap. Right now."

"Okay, okay, I'll be good. I really am sorry, Lily."

She huffs as if she means business and reaches impatiently into her breast pocket. She pulls out an elastic hair tie, which - while steering with her bloody knees again, the wench - she uses to toss her hair into a high and sloppy ponytail. Pressing her lips together, she twists herself around in her seat to look over her shoulder, then flicks the turn signal and veers into the oncoming lane. Once she's there, she pushes the clutch in and downshifts; fourth to third, lurch, coast - then third to second, coast again - then, finally, she lets the clutch pedal out and taps the accelerator, and they settle into a lower speed. Seventy kilometers per hour, James reads.

Lily continues to fall back for a moment longer. Sure enough, a red Ferrari whizzes past them. Lily signals again and moves back into the left lane.

James grins. "Nice moves."

"Shut up," Lily growls.

"Just for the record, I love it when you show off."

Lily rests her hand primly against the steering wheel and smirks. "Show off? I don't know what you're talking about." She settles back in her seat, stretching lightly; she's back in control. She reaches across the gearbox, her hand wandering towards his lap, and for a moment James's brain switches off again - but then he realizes she's reaching for a Pumpkin Pasty. He swallows and fidgets uncomfortably, as sitting still is really starting to become painful. A sidelong glance at Lily tells him she's noticed. Mentally, James swears, because there's that look again. And now she's acting on it.

She bites her lip again, a quirk of a grin and a blush spreading across her face, and gestures for the pasty. Her hand is hovering right above his crotch, which is now throbbing. James laughs in spite of himself and partly unwraps a pasty for her, which he then places chastely in her hand. Wordlessly, and without taking her eyes off the road, she raises it to her lips and takes a bite.

"Want to learn to drive?" she asks.

"Drive your parents' old Ford? Only if I want your dad to kill me."

"Well, I'm not going to tell him," Lily says, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "My foot's getting a bit cramped, anyway. I think it's time my co-pilot took the wheel, don't you?"

It's the way she sighs, almost inaudibly, as she says the word 'co-pilot'. Almost as if she's just rolled the 'r' of 'moron' again, but with a lot more intention. He knows her tells by now, and this is the one that means she not only intends to fuck him, she also wants to. Badly.

It would almost be a relief if his whole body weren't suddenly tingling. He closes his eyes for a second and breathes.

Then he opens them and smiles. He reaches up and sloppily rubs a smudge of powdered sugar off her lip. "Well, I guess as long as you don't tell him. Then yes."

Lily's blush deepens as she reaches for the shifter again, signals her intention to turn, and veers off the road.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Here. This looks like it should be a decent spot," Lily says. They're about fifty meters off the road, in a flat, grassy meadow littered with low shrubs. Judging by the height of the grass and uneven feel of the ground, this will in fact be a terrible spot, but that's all right because Lily has no intention of teaching James how to drive, at least not now, and she's reasonably sure he knows it. - Actually, she's certain he knows it, which is why she'd needed to get the hell off the road as fast as humanly possible. Timing the clutch and the shifter with his hand on her knee is hard enough; she knows that when he starts in on her like this, sharing the road without crashing is just a bald impossibility. He's hardly done anything except kiss her and her knickers are already soaked.

Tell my dad. Right. Lily laughs to herself. As if. After all, her father was the one who had taught her how to drive this car, in a parking lot back in Cokeworth. But then, they'd broken the rules back then, too; he'd started teaching her at the very illegal age of fourteen.

For a second she thinks back to him, how he'd glowed and bragged endlessly about how well she'd handled the car every time they came out of that parking lot, but how he'd forbidden her to drive on the main roads until she was bored out of her skull and he was finally convinced she could do it safely. She thinks about Petunia; she thinks about her mother. Because she really has decided: She's not going back, and this is the last time she's likely to drive a car for a while. But her place is in this world, with the Order, and this is the fight she needs to join.

They'll support her decision the same way they always have. Or at least, her parents will. Petunia will pretend not to care.

Lily bites the inside of her cheek. She needs to park. Now.

She sighs impatiently and downshifts into first gear, then into neutral. Her shoulders are tense. Why are her shoulders tense? It's not as if she'll never visit her family again. Bloody fucking shit.

It's James's fingers on the back of her neck that jerk her out of her reverie. He's not saying anything, just feeling for knots. And she does seem to have developed a few rather suddenly. It seems to happen a lot when she thinks about Petunia, but, oh. That does feel nice.

Lily looks up and smiles at him. He quirks an eyebrow. She holds his gaze, steady as a rock.

"Okay. First lesson of driving manual transmission," she says cheerfully. "When preparing to stop, push the clutch pedal in. This disengages the engine from the wheels and allows you to shift the gears."

James nods. "Got it."

"Move the shifter into first gear or neutral, if you haven't already. Then, with the clutch pedal in, press the brake. Before you come to a full stop, let the clutch out all the way. If you don't do this before you stop moving, the car will stall, because it will have fully stopped moving with the wheels disconnected from the engine."

James nods again, but now his hand has moved to the base of her ponytail, and he's inching closer. He's already unbuckled his seat belt - how had she not noticed this? - but she's not exactly keen on taking her time, either. Fine. Fine.

"Final step," she says, a grin spreading over her face again. "Brake pedal, stop, ignition, emergency brake. Wow, you're impatient," she jokes, and he good-naturedly rolls his eyes and releases her seat belt. With a click it springs loose and whips back into its harness, and then James is pulling her hair tie out and running his hands through her hair, dragging her over the gearbox as she tries, awkwardly, to climb into his lap, but of course the shifter is in her way and she has to hold up a finger. "Wait," she laughs, trying to stand up enough to put her leg over the shifter without knocking it into fourth. "Wait, there's too much stuff in the way, sorry - oof - "

"Careful," James murmurs as she stumbles onto the passenger's side, then slips on the pile of road maps that have found their way onto the floor. "Bit crowded over here." He reaches up and pulls her on top of him, trying to kiss her, but Lily puts a finger on his lips and shakes her head. She's not balanced yet and this needs to be her first priority. Pressing her other hand against his shoulder, she hitches herself up, smiling, and slides her knees up so that she's straddling his hips. He lets out a short gasp of pain, then laughs.

"Ow. Right. Sorry. Okay." He scoots his hips a few inches to the right to give her more room, and she shifts curiously, testing the angle; he groans and presses his hips into hers. She bites her lip and hikes up her skirt.

"Think this'll work?" she asks. She's grinning; she can't believe she's about to do this.

But James believes it, apparently. He's already got one hand on her neck, half grabbing hair and half grabbing skin, and the other one working at the buttons of her shirt. His breath is hot and quick in her ear and she shivers. "Stop biting your lip, you'll make it bleed."

"Uhm." She feels his hands slide through her hair and under the strap of her bra as the top half of her shirt falls open, and she leans in to kiss him now. Her breath hitches in her throat as he deepens it immediately, darting his tongue against hers and then over her lower lip, sucking briefly before pulling her back into a dizzying kiss. She lets out a small moan as his thumb flicks over her nipple, which is still covered in sheer black lace.

His eyes widen when he sees it. "Fuck, Lily, you've been planning this!"

Now she's laughing. "Oh. I don't know, maybe. Hmm."

"You knew we'd be locked up in this fucking car for three hours, crammed in here like a pair of sardines, and you bloody planned this. Oh my God." He hooks his fingers roughly under the lace and shoves it out of the way, so that her breasts pop free. "This is evil. This means war."

"Oh. Well I guess you're on to me now." She hadn't planned it, not exactly, but she doesn't need to tell him that. Whatever he comes up with in retaliation should be fun, so let him think she's been teasing him since they left her parents' drive. And maybe she has been. Sort of. A little bit. She drapes an arm around his neck and sinks down onto his lap, rolling her hips slowly against his as he cups one breast in his palm, licking and biting along the hollow of her throat the way he knows she likes it, and she closes her eyes, focusing her attention on the delicious hardness in his jeans. And oh, he is hard - so much so that she can trace the full outline of his cock, crammed painfully against his thigh. She cups her palm over the head, stroking the shaft through the denim, and he gasps. She takes a heady breath and pushes her hips forward, trying to feel him, because when he gets like this, the anticipation is almost as good as the sex itself. And she wants this. Every second of it.

"Okay, your dad's definitely going to kill me," James mutters, but that doesn't stop his hand snaking under her skirt, probing, finding the hem of her knickers and pushing them aside. Lily feels his breath catch as he dips two fingers inside her, then pulls them out and rubs them over her aching clit; she moans and leans forward, trying to get him to do it again. "That's it. I'm dead. Fucking his daughter in the Evans family car. Totally dead."

"James. For the love of God. Shut up about my dad."

"I'm just saying."

"Shush." Lily kisses him hotly on the mouth, pulling the end of his belt out of its loop and then going to work on the buckle. Immediately his hands move to help, and a moment later his jeans are undone and they're pushing them down over his hips. With a thrill of pleasure Lily feels his cock spring free and thump against her thigh. She's quick to take it in her hand, giving it a long, hard stroke before rubbing the tip of it slowly over her wetness, savoring the feel of him. So smooth and warm; so heavy and supple in her hand. She wants to put it in her mouth and see how long she can suck it before he comes, but her arse is almost bumping the glove compartment and she knows there isn't room.

That doesn't stop her from telling him about it, though. She rakes her hand through his hair, pushing his head to the side, and lightly bites his earlobe as she wraps her other hand around his erection and slowly works the wetness up and down the shaft, her fingers forming an 'o' that pops over the head as she pushes toward the base. "James," she breathes, swirling the tip of her tongue over the hollow of his jaw, "I want to suck your cock."

James groans and mutters something that sounds like Oh fuck me and leans his head back against the seat, breathing hard. Lily takes this opportunity to kiss him coyly, keeping her lips only halfway parted. James responds by pulling her hard against him and forcing her mouth open, his tongue sliding hungrily against hers, and she gasps and lets him take control. She loves teasing him to this point and then inviting him to shove her against whatever surface is available and fuck her until her knees are too weak for walking.

He breaks the kiss and looks into her eyes. Holding her gaze, he pulls the crotch of her knickers aside and pushes inside her. She gasps at the sudden fullness of him and arches her back in reply, pausing for a moment to relish that first delicious thrust. Then, closing her eyes, she lifts herself up on her knees so he's just barely still inside her, and begins to slide back down.

Then James does something terrible. He slides his hand even further between her legs, so that he's cupping her left arse cheek in his palm, effectively preventing her from moving any further. To make matters worse, he scoots his hips up just a tiny bit in the seat, so that Lily loses the angle she's been craving - and, with the way her leg is trapped between the seat and the door, it's going to be nearly impossible to get it back by herself.

She opens her eyes and discovers that, on top of all of this, her head is about a centimeter away from crashing into the roof of the car. And James is smirking.

Lily swears. James laughs and kisses her - but then he's got both of his hands on her hips, and he's rocking into her, slowly, so slowly. She lets out a strangled moan.

"Told you this means war," he whispers in her ear.

"Fine, you win."

"Well, I didn't really mean it." He takes her earlobe between his teeth and bites down, gently, just enough to make her gasp, and suddenly thrusts deep and hard. Shocks of pleasure flare up in her toes and abdomen as he hits just the right spot; then he does it again, and for a few moments it's all she can do to hold herself upright. But even this he seems to have anticipated, because now he grips her hips more tightly, moving her at the angle and pace she likes best, and she sighs.

"Hey," she says, attempting a joke. "It's almost like you know something you shouldn't."

"Mm. Know what?" He shifts beneath her and Lily is suddenly incapable of rational thought.

"Nothing," she gasps. "Never mind. Carry on."

"What? - oh," he says, as comprehension dawns. "Oh. Well, it's practice, I guess. And the fact that you're instructive. And loud. And maybe it's also just easy to get you off."

"It's not that easy," she protests. "I mean, is it?"

But James isn't having it. He grins. "Come on, there's nobody here, you can admit it."

Lily grits her teeth as he thrusts again. It feels so good it almost hurts, the way he's shaped, the way he fills her and stretches her - there's nothing in the world that's better. She's torn between wanting to sit back and let him do his thing and wanting to shove him back into the seat and ravish him. Considering she has no leverage at the moment, she opts for the former.

James reaches under her skirt again and begins working at the tight bundle of nerves between her legs, and she shivers. He's gotten quite good at this; dazedly she thinks he might even be getting sort of close to the point where he's as good at touching her there as she is. Certainly it no longer takes him more than a few minutes to get her off if he's trying, and that's about as much time as it takes her to do it herself if she's really worked up. Maybe he's right; maybe it really is easy to get her off. Or maybe he just acts like he can fuck me through a nine-inch wall and I like it.

She feels his breath against her cheek. He thrusts quickly, and hard. "Sorry for being stupid earlier," he whispers.

"Total car wreck," she manages.

"As co-pilots go, pretty terrible."

"Yes," she gasps, because not only has he just hit that spot again, he's also begun rocking his hips in that odd way that strokes her back walls and then rams straight into the front, and every time the stroke lands she feels as though she's got sparks erupting in her belly. He's been doing a lot of that lately and she's sure it's because he knows it turns her to mush. His hands are up her skirt and squeezing the flesh of her arse as he pumps steadily, in and out, each slick slide building rapidly to the next. Both of them are breathing erratically now, and Lily feels the familiar heavy ache at her center as her climax begins to build. Squeezing her eyes shut, she moves her hand to the windowsill and clutches, her knuckles going white. James sees this and moves one hand back between her legs, where he begins to massage her through her knickers, watching in rapt fascination as she arches into him. His cheeks are flushed.

Pushing the fabric aside, he presses three fingers flat against her and picks up the pace. Small, tight circles.

"Good?"

Lily's body tightens, and she gives a breathless nod. James stills as he focuses on her clit, and after that it really is too easy. In about thirty seconds she comes, spots of color winking at the corners of her eyes as she shudders and clenches down on him, once, twice, thrice - oh - four times. For a brief moment the world seems to go silent.

Breathing hard, she sinks into his lap and slumps against his shoulder. Off in the distance a lone motorbike roars by. It dawns on her that the record player has been silent since they'd entered the meadow.

She doesn't have long to reflect on it, though, because James is moving again, one hand jimmying the clasp of her bra while the other squeezes her breast, his thumb flicking over the nipple, then circling the areola. Impatiently he sweeps the straps off her shoulders and dips his head to take a nipple in his mouth.

The thought of telling him to get out of the car and lie down in the grass crosses her mind. She wants to undress him properly; she wants to see his body - she wants to pin his wrists to the ground just to see the muscles of his arms and chest tighten as she licks and sucks the line of skin from the base of his cock to the top of his navel. The image of it makes her breath quicken all over again, and Lily rakes her hands through his hair and clutches it in her fists, pulling his head back so she can kiss him. She drags her lips over the underside of his chin, right where the skin is most tender, and James groans.

"Okay, that's it," he says, fumbling for the latch on the door. "Out."

Lily grins. "Oh?"

"Yes. Up. Let's go." He manages to shove the door open, and she lifts herself clumsily out of his lap, so that they both stumble into the grass, a mess of disheveled clothes and unsteady limbs. As soon as they're out of the car Lily grabs his hand and turns, trying to pull him into the grass, but before she can, he bends her back over the hood and pins her wrists over her head. She gasps in surprise as he gets on top of her and settles his weight between her legs, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses along her shoulder and clavicle. A moment later he releases her wrists, pushes her skirt up, and pulls her knickers over her ankles.

"James," Lily says, incoherently.

"Is your back all right?"

She supposes something will be bruised tomorrow, but right now she couldn't care less. Her head swims as he lifts her legs over his shoulders and kneels in the grass; she knows what's coming. If there's one thing James seems to enjoy, it's seeing how many times she'll let him push her to orgasm before she collapses into a pile of sweaty limbs and yells uncle. And it had been awkward and a bit painful at first, back when they'd first started fucking - she'd been nervous and a little too giggly, and he was gawky and a little too rough. He hadn't really known what to do with his tongue and it had bordered nearly on unpleasant. But James was curious and Lily was cheeky, and from this exploration emerged something special. To this day she doesn't know how to describe it, other than that it's something like trust - the kind of trust that comes from knowing that they're about to do something truly stupid (like fucking over the hood of her parents' car off the side of the A82, what the ever loving shit are they thinking) but will somehow manage to come out of it better than they went in.

Like this. Coming into this trip, she'd been a tense, agitated mess. Surely unfit to be driving at such reckless and giddy speeds. Now she's flat on her back with a huge, wide sky above her, a storybook meadow all around her, likely at least one police car within ten kilometers of her, and James Potter fiddling with her skirt. There's no way this can end badly, even if they're arrested by road patrol for public indecency. No way in the known universe.

So Lily sits up and watches as James's head dips between her legs, leaning back on her elbows to give him better access. He catches her eye and gives her a dangerous look, and her heart races. He starts by nipping gently at the back of her knee, and then planting a trail of light, wet kisses along her inner thigh, moving ever closer until his teeth and tongue graze against the skin of her outer lips - but while the sensations are delicious, what really makes this feel wicked is the way he's so obviously affected by it. It's the way his breathing quickens, the way he drags his fingers from her ankle to her calf to her thigh, the way he grips her and bends her, the way his whole body seems to surge and tremble with lust. Next to that, the fact that he's eating her pussy seems almost secondary.

- But of course Lily forgets everything as soon as he begins to pick up speed. He works her up slowly, with long, firm licks, until she's grabbing his hair and pushing her hips towards him, urging him to get on with it already, but he doesn't. Lily gives an agitated huff as he presses his whole mouth down over her folds and gradually builds to a firm sucking pressure right where she needs it, but still not quite enough to bring her off.

"Fuck, James," she hisses.

"Hmmm." It comes out as a hoarse moan, but he's focused. He continues to lick and knead and tease her, bringing her to ever higher levels until she's gasping and practically begging him to finish it - until, finally, he does. Her orgasm breaks, her back and elbows thumping against the hood of the car as she surges toward him. Through this he keeps his palms firm and strong against her thighs, holding her steady as the waves of pleasure ripple through her, until at last she peaks and her breathing quiets.

Trembling, she pulls back a little. James lets her legs down and stands up. Lily slides off the hood and puts a wobbly foot on the ground, twining her arms around James's neck as he pulls her body tightly against his and kisses her, his erection pressing hot and hard into her belly, the thick drop of fluid at the tip smearing over her skin and half-open shirt. Lily exhales sharply at the feel of him, and her fingers tangle in his hair, pulling hard; there's a light mist of sweat on his skin now and he smells absolutely intoxicating, some combination of pine and sex and him that drives her positively spare. At this point she's so turned on that it hardly matters that she's already come twice - she needs to be fucked.

So, clumsily, she breaks the kiss and whispers in his ear. James's response is immediate and forceful; he spins her around and bends her over the hood of the car again, so that her elbows are crammed against the cold painted metal, and thrusts into her in one sharp stroke. Her calves tighten as she feels his chest pressing down against her back and his arms wrapping around her, his hands roving under her shirt, stroking her stomach and squeezing her breasts. Judging by how hard he feels inside her and the roughness of his movements, he's very close. She moans and pushes her hips into his.

"Oh God. Lily." James plants his knee against the bumper and his palm against the hood to steady himself, then pulls almost all the way out. For a second he pauses there, holding his breath - but then he plunges into her, as far as he can go, and Lily braces herself against the car as his pace becomes wild and rough, exactly as she wants and needs it, ramming that one spot over and over until she hears herself yelling with the unbearable pain and pleasure of it. Lights explode behind her eyelids as she crests the edge again and again, one sensation blurring into the next, and soon she's lost track of everything except him and the bruising pain of her knees knocking against the bumper - but that's okay, because all he asks of her is to absorb and to feel, and that she does. Every fiber of her feels and begs to be felt. And feel he does.

But it's a fury that can't last long, and he comes with one final, shuddering thrust, wrenching a yell from her chest as he carelessly drives too deep.

He collapses on top of her, breathing hard. Lily rests her cheek against the hood of the car. Her joints tremble and her entire body feels warm; her ears are ringing. For nearly a minute they stay like that, catching their breaths, too dazed to speak and too weak in the knees to move.

After a time she feels his finger stroke her cheek, lifting her hair gently out of her face. He props himself up and places a soft kiss on her shoulder blade.

Lily feels herself smiling. "We should, uh, maybe get off the car."

James nods and slides out of her, holding out a hand as he straightens up. Lily takes it and stumbles into him, but he's not any steadier on his feet than she is on hers and they topple back onto the hood.

She gives a breathless giggle. "Oh. Well then."

"Um."

Lily presses a finger to his lips, and then kisses him. It's sloppy and slow and sweet, and she almost thinks she could go one more time - almost. Fumbling, she finds his hands and manages to lace her fingers between his; then she pushes them off the car and sits down, rather suddenly, in the grass, bringing James tumbling down beside her. He's still got that dazed look on his face and doesn't resist when she rolls onto her side and drags his arm over her stomach, pulling his chest against her back. He takes the hint and folds her into his arms, and she sighs.

"Are you going to be able to drive?" he asks, nuzzling into her neck. He sounds sleepy, but Lily can hear the grin in his voice.

"Not a chance." She's grinning too. "Unless you want to get on the road and try."

"That sounds like a bad idea."

"That's why we're taking a nap. Right here. Right now."

"Mm. Illegal. I like it."

"Mmhm." And somewhere in the back of her mind, Lily really does agree - they haven't gone very far off the road and she's reasonably sure they can be seen by motorists driving by, if they're paying attention.

Let them all get bugs up their arses coming to tell us off, she thinks. Because for the moment, she just doesn't care. In two weeks she'll be running headlong into a war zone, but right now she has her life and the sun on her face, and she has James to share it with. All the rest of it can wait.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

- Epilogue (sort of) -

Aaaaand a short while later they're spotted by a policeman out on patrol. They are roundly chastised, ticketed for two separate violations (trespassing on protected lands without a permit, and parking illegally), and threatened with the revocation of Lily's license. Thankfully James has managed to pull his pants up by this point and Lily is able to convince the policeman that she'd thought this was actually a legitimate and public camping site and that they were actually just about to pitch their tent there, so sorry officer, it's just that this was such a perfect place to pitch a tent, please forgive us because honestly we just didn't even have a clue, etc. James fakes a hacking cough and fails utterly to hide the fact that he's laughing. The policeman is furious but sees that indeed they do have a load of camping gear in the back seat and doesn't know what to do with himself, so he adds another fifty-pound fine to Lily's tickets and drives off in a huff. Once he's gone James and Lily burst into fits of giddy and slightly hysterical laughter. This goes on for a while, but finally they get a hold of themselves, and James tells Lily he'll pay the fines. A few days later they arrive in London and he does. Then they scrub out the interior of the car and return it to Lily's parents in Cokeworth, who are never the wiser.

Love and kisses,

- Jenna