Author's Notes: Written pre-DH, but not necessarily AU. Contains both het and slash, but both are relatively non-explicit.

"I'm old."

She always quietened this initial protest with first a kiss to his forehead in an attempt to smooth his undeniable wrinkles and then a tender caress of her hands through his still-thick but now excessively grey-streaked hair. She said she loved that he was older. She loved his wrinkles, and his grey hairs, and the fact that he could boast ten years more knowledge than her. She loved him just as he was, she asserted. He swore she gave him a new strand or two of silver every time she said such things.

"I'm poor."

She countered this objection just as silently, but usually employing more subtle methods. Every time he so much as looked in the direction of an item that he might otherwise, as her boyfriend, been tempted to buy her, she'd somehow come up with an excuse to rant about how much she hated chivalry; it was so sexist, really, because who ever said that women couldn't look out for and provide for themselves? As if to demonstrate just how true that statement was, she would always emphasise how little any purchases she made on her own behalf impacted on her savings and her ability to cater for both of their material desires. He knew she meant well, but sometimes it felt like she was flaunting just how little she needed him. It was difficult for any man to consider how easily their partner could live without having a boyfriend who wasn't even wealthy enough to take them both out for drinks.

"I'm a werewolf."

"Remus Lupin!" she always admonished, her words either accompanied by an awkward giggle or a tired sigh, depending on her mood. "You know that doesn't matter to me."

Oh, but it should, Remus contradicted her silently. It should definitely matter to a young, well-off and vigorous woman like Nymphadora Tonks – an Auror, for Merlin's sake – that she was devoting herself to someone like him. For a start, there were dozens of Ministry decrees that limited what non-financial things he might otherwise have provided. He couldn't marry her. He couldn't father her children. He couldn't spend time with any young children, for that matter, unless someone other than her was present with him. Even then, it was heavily frowned upon.

She deserved someone who was worthy of her affections. She deserved someone who could return them.

Eventually, however, Remus gave in and allowed a 'relationship' of sorts to develop between them. He even found her consistent presence in his home something of a comfort at times. However, he could never be what she wanted him to be.

He still did have a few good excuses left, really:

"I don't love you."

"I'm gay."

"I'm still in love with someone else."

Particularly since that someone was her late cousin, deceased now for over a year, Remus couldn't bring himself to admit any of that. But nor was he sure that he could continue lying to her every time she asked him, "Do you love me?"

~FIN~