A/n: I don't mind telling you that at one point I was laughing so hard reading this I had to go lay down. I've started to put a thread of romance into it; also, I apologize for any weirdness in formatting—this site is completely confusing when it comes to allowing one to separate blocks of text correctly (as evidenced in the a/n and chapter title of the last entry—I still haven't been able to fix it right). Also, while this is the last chapter of THIS fic, it is not the last chapter in this series of them (the first of which being Rise and Shine)

Chapter Three Yellow Alarm Clocks Notwithstanding

Tonks was bored out of her gourd. That is, if she'd had a gourd, she would most certainly have been bored out of it, most likely in the first 10 minutes of her dare-imposed silence. She'd spent that time watching a spider crawl across the space of the window that displayed the entrance to the bar. Then, she'd amused herself by coming up with funny stories about the people going into the building, only to come to a realization after she'd nearly choked herself trying not to laugh out loud—that was a very bad pastime for someone with an imagination like hers who was trying to be quiet. So, she'd very ostentatiously checked the time. Bugger. 15 minutes had passed.

She considered trying some of her father's calisthenics, but at the last minute, she remembered what had happened the last time she'd done that, at home. Her dad's cat still hadn't forgiven her. Something told her that Remus would probably count bouncing on a creaking floorboard for 45 minutes as a violation of a silence pact (and she figured even she might go batty after that long), so she selected a not-quite-as-boring-looking-as-the-others book from the bookcase and sat back down.

"Taking the easy way out, I see," he observed without looking at her.

Damn him. He KNEW how much she hated letting someone else have the last word. Sulking silently, she put the book back.

The next 3 minutes were spent watching the spider as it had reappeared on the windowpane, and she'd almost cursed aloud as it meandered back below the sill. Just her luck, she couldn't remember any non-verbal spells that would manage to get it back up where she could see it. Tonks was rather delighted nearly 20 minutes later, however, after exhausting any spell idea she'd had and checking the clock. Only ten more minutes.

Over this whole time period, Lupin had not looked at her more than once, and this made her brave enough to decide on a very pleasant way to pass the remaining time. She settled herself in her chair very comfortably, and looked at him. She watched the way his eyes crinkled ever so slightly when he read something he found amusing. She admired the way his brownish grey hair fell over his forehead as he leaned over and picked up his quill when it fell. She spent 3 whole minutes drinking in the sight of his long fingers on the parchment, and when she looked back at his face, she saw with alarm that he'd been watching her, too. Their eyes locked, and she could have sworn she stopped breathing. She didn't need to—he would breathe for her…

And then the bright yellow goggly-eyed alarm clock sneezed loudly and covered Lupin with a shower of sparkling gold feathers and glitter.

Tonks closed her eyes. Maddening, hysterical laughter was hovering in her throat, trying desperately to get out. She was going to fail, she was going to laugh and ruin everything, she was…

"Time's up, I suppose." Lupin said in the most calm, dry voice imaginable.

Tonks fell off her chair and laughed so hard she got hiccups—but he wasn't done there.

"I suppose you knew it was going to do that?" he asked in the same tone.

"Don't-hic-talk! Hic!" she stammered, sure that it'd kill her if she had to laugh any harder. She managed to open her eyes, meaning to clean him up and apologize, but the sight of Remus Lupin covered with electric yellow fuzzy feathers and sparkling gold glitter was too much for her. She laughed and hiccupped for nearly five minutes, finally winding down, when the evil man spoke again.

"I suppose it could be worse," he said dolefully, causing her to hold her stomach and look at him reproachfully through her streaming eyes. How could it possibly be worse! "You could have had a camera," he explained. Comprehension dawned slowly, and she struggled to get up and find her wand, only to succeed after a long and painful search to turn around and see him completely himself again.

"That was mean," she said, trying to smother another hiccup.

"It was the best revenge I could manage at the time," he said, apologetically.

"Speaking of revenge," she said, delighted, "it's your turn to pick." Tonks gave up on attempting to charm her hiccups away and simply conjured up a glass of ice water.

"Oh Lord," he said. She grinned. "I'll go with the lesser of the two evils—truth."

This was too much to have expected. Tonks felt like she was at a banquet with all her favorite foods arrayed before her, and only able to pick one. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a question lurked, one she really shouldn't-

"What sort of woman do you fancy?" she asked. Well, she'd always been impulsive, hadn't she? A thought struck her, however. "That is, if you-"

"Yes, I do," he said, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Good," she said, and blushed. He looked at her oddly, and then sighed.

"Right—the question. Err…" he looked over at her again.

"If you want to ask why I asked you, you'll have to wait your turn," she said cheekily. At that, he looked away, but she could have sworn she saw a slight tinge of color on his face. Lupin? Blushing? "No more stalling," she said sternly.

"Time to pay the piper, as it were," he remarked, referring to her earlier revenge comment. She nodded. "Well, I-" he stopped, and ran his hand through his hair in a gesture that she was fast becoming enamored with. "You know, I don't normally think about-"

"Start."

"Right." He closed his eyes, and she made sure to watch for activity at the window. They were on a mission, after all, whether or not she was on a mission of her own. "Intelligent, amusing, witty," he said, a ghost of a smile on his face. Tonks allowed herself to hope that the fact of his not beaming in pleasure might mean he wasn't thinking of a particular girl—and then realized that it meant he wasn't thinking of her, either. Then she mentally kicked herself for acting like a 13 year old schoolchild, and blurted out something that had her kicking herself literally.

"Please, don't say 'graceful,' she groaned, and then covered her head with a cushion from the armchair. "Forget I said that."

"If you like," he said, and he didn't sound upset or offended. The very fact that he didn't changed the tone of the conversation in a way that her asking what his ideal woman was like had not. It was almost—but not quite—an admission that liking one another was possible, if not very probable. She could hear him laugh from under the pillow, and peeked out just as he said, "Although I was going to add, 'can stand long silences,' so…" She thought it was very mature of herself not to throw the pillow at his smug face.

"Be good, or I'll have a very loud sneezing fit at the next Order meeting to watch you flinch in terror," she said, grinning impishly at his shudder.

"Speaking of the time," he said dryly, "I think we're done here, for now." He stood up, gathering his things, and said over his shoulder, "We shall have to continue the conversation at a later date, I'm afraid."

She didn't tell him that she'd consider that a promise to continue their game, as well. As she thought this, she felt a strange sensation of movement and looked around to find that he was levitating the chair—with her in it—back to its original location.

"You should have warned me!" she said indignantly. "I could have fallen off."

"You could have done that, whether or not the chair was moving, Tonks."

"That was a cheap shot," she said sullenly.

"I take what I can get," he said, once again managing to get the last word. It really was exasperating, she thought.

After reporting the night's findings to Moody, the two of them had both gravitated to the library at Grimmauld Place—Lupin for his nightcap, Tonks to return a book she'd been reading. Rather than retreat to her room with a new one, she settled herself on a couch across the room from him and started to read. It was so engaging that when he got up to leave, the movement startled her. She looked up to see him staring at her curiously; the expression on his face was one of someone for whom a conclusion was only minutes away. He blinked as if awaking from a deep thought, and spoke to her.

"Well, it appears I was wrong, Miss Tonks," he said solicitously. She raised an eyebrow in question. "It appears you can sit silently for long periods of time." His grin was rather playful as he waited for her indignant response.

"As I recall, you disallowed me any means of amusing myself other than to stare at you," she said, refusing to let him see how he'd irked her.

"Next time you wish to do so," he said with a laugh, "you have my permission to stop without the need to douse me in confetti." He turned to leave.

"Must you always have the last word?" she asked his back, exasperated.

Lupin paused for a long moment, finally turning to face her. Hands clasped before him, eyebrow raised, he stood there, looking at her, with a cocky smile on his face. Two long minutes passed.

"All right! All right," She said, with a begrudging smile. "I get the point." He nodded at her deferentially, and started for the door again. Lupin had almost disappeared through the doorway when she heard it.

"Good."

He had gotten the last word again. Damn it all.

The End

Don't worry, a sequel IS planned, although confetti is optional.