Pairing: Tonks/Remus (what else?)

Rating: Kplus (I'm new at rating, K probably would've suited as well)

Warning: none (except for grammar mistakes since I don't have any betas and English is not my first language)

Length: about 1,970 words (not much, future fics will have more. Er... hopefully... -cough-)

Disclaimer: I love creative disclaimers! Sadly, I'm not in a creative mood right now, so: Nothing's mine, it's all JKR's (luckiest woman on earth!)

Summary: After all she's come to comfort him and how better to comfort someone you love if not with closeness? - Between OotP and HBP; Tonks seeks comfort and love, so naturally, she's looking for Remus and finds him in the library...

Beta: none (anyone who likes to volunteer for future stories?)

Author's Notes: First fanfic to post! YEAH! It's a One-Shot for now but I do have a companion piece to this one. Have fun reading! ;D

OoOoOoOoO

Seeking Comfort, Seeking Love

She pushes the door open, quietly as not to startle him. She knows if he's anywhere to be found, then here in the library of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Occasionally, she would even think of it as his realm, the place he could withdraw himself to at any given time and where most likely nobody would intrude – except for her just now. But she can't help it, really, because she wants to see him so badly, to comfort him and be comforted in return. After all, she loves him…

He's sitting on the couch, as usual, reading a book, as usual, and she wonders how many he must've read in his life up until now. It must be hundreds, thousands, she thinks, and it's no surprise anymore that he's so intelligent and sophisticated. Just another adorable feature of his that she admires a lot, that she loves him for.

"Wotcher Remus" she says quietly, softly, closing the door behind her and slowly walking towards him. He looks up and after a second's surprise throws her a gentle though unconvincing smile.

"Hello Nymphadora" he responds in this calm, slightly hoarse voice of his that makes her insides melt in an instant, although the hint of sorrow hidden beneath his words hits her much more these days, emotionally seen. It's an awful feeling she discovers, like a searing pain swallowing her heart and soul – the very parts that feel so much compassion and love for him – altogether.

She gives him a little mock-glare at the use of her first name but only half-heartedly, because he looks so miserable already and she doesn't want to make it worse. As it is, she hates seeing him in this bad state and she hates it even more that he wouldn't let his guard down still. She'd love to comfort him, tell him that it was okay to grieve, okay to talk to her about his pain, okay to let go in front of her, or anyone else for that matter. And she knows that he's in great pain, far beyond healing, because he must be after what happened, but she can't tell him what she wants to tell him and neither, she's sure of that, would he take her advice. It hurts.

He smiles once again, so unconvincingly, before he returns to his book. She wonders for a moment what to do next, if its safe to say more, but then walks around the couch and sits down next to him. Cackling noises and soothing warmth comes from the fireplace in front of them, it makes her feel quite comfortable even in this cold manor and she notices the shadows casted by the fire glistening on his face that is now deep in concentration. Silence falls and it feels unusually heavy upon her heart. For several minutes the two of them just sit there, him reading his book and her watching the flames dance in a somewhat gloomy fashion.

Why?

She reminds herself painfully that he hasn't always been like this. Sure, he was quiet before, never much of a speaker but he would've started a conversation by now, normally. He would've asked about her day and would've listened with interest, occasionally commenting but never interrupting her, and she would've loved to talk to him, loved to complain about her work or the Ministry or other things that upset her lately. She would've loved to make jokes with him and hear him laugh about them, loved to make small talk and flirt with him the next moment (the way she sometimes did), even loved to trip in front of him only to have him catch her around her waist or, better yet, fall into him and see his reaction on the sudden contact (usually a chuckle, a slight blush, once she thought she saw a cheeky grin). However, he keeps distance now, so much that she feels hurt by it, and especially because it's him and, well, she loves him and you don't want the man you love to distance himself from you, right?

"So, what are you reading?"

She tries to start a conversation if ever so lame the attempt might seem. Without further thought, she shuffles closer in order to look at the book in his hands, her face almost brushing his shoulder. He neither moves nor does he look up but he what he does is stiffen briefly at her side. Gazing at him she notices her mistake and feels a blush creep over her face as she retreats quickly.

"Sorry, I... Didn't mean to disturb you, sorry…"

Her voice is but a whisper and she's not sure if he even heard her apology. Silence settles between them once again while her mind is racing to come up with anything decent to say. Why is it so hard to talk to him? She hates this...

"You don't like being this close to people, do you?"

The words are out of her mouth before she can stop herself. Decent enough for you, Tonks, you bloody idiot? She curses herself quietly and bites her lip while she's feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. She can't afford to look at him anymore, so she stares quickly at her hands, thinking of an excuse, any at all.

But "Sorry, I didn't… I meant… it's not like..." is all she manages. A sigh escapes her mouth and her incapability of forming a coherent sentence makes the situation all the more embarrassing. He doesn't say anything or react in any way and insecurity is growing inside her that she might have destroyed the last bit of sympathy that she thought he had had left for her. And with a sudden desperate ache in her heart, she feels that it's all about keeping collateral damage as small as possible now.

"Sorry… I… I really didn't know what I meant. I reckon I'm not good to have around these days…" she says in a very feeble attempt at making up for her blunder. She half expects him... well not to say "yes", because it's Remus and she knows he's tactful and would never tell her directly that he's annoyed by her and that he wants her to leave him alone. But she expects him to keep quiet, not to answer, not to react at all which would indicate that he doesn't want to talk to her and doesn't want her to talk to him in return. She hates herself so much this moment, because she's just not able to show him how much she cares for him, that she does understand, does want to comfort him and make it better, even though she knows it's not possible. It seems to her that there's no rescuing the situation anymore, so she makes a move to get up, thinking that fleeing from the crime scene might just be a good idea, and blinks back a tear in her eye in the process.

"You don't have to go, Nymphadora."

His hand closes around her wrist and he's holding her back, his calm voice a soft whisper in the air. For a moment she's confused, taken aback. What? As she lets herself fall back onto the couch she looks at him, intently, almost as if in shock. His eyes still linger on his book, unmoving, and the room seems utterly quiet but inside her a sudden storm erupts out of nowhere. Her heart wells up with emotion so strong she's not sure she can contain it any longer but it doesn't surprise her all the same. Alone the touch of his hand on her wrist, bare skin on bare skin, and his voice, so soothing…

"Oh… o-okay" she brings herself to mutter under her breath and he smiles kindly, as if to himself, and releases her wrist. Her heart is racing, she's so surprised that he held her back, that apparently he wasn't mad at her for being stupid, silly Tonks again, that he might even appreciate her presence right now, but then again he's still not looking at her and she really would like him to. She wants to see his eyes, wants to read in them what he's thinking right now and most of all just wants him to look at her, see what she feels, because she knows it must show on her.

She hates silence but can't think of anything else to say. Instead, she yawns and it's strange but she feels the unexpected weight of fatigue and exhaustion from the last few days, weeks, even months settle on every part of her body. She's not even considering her actions anymore and just leans in, nestles her head against his shoulder. Again, she can feel him stiffen, just slightly, just a bit, but she knows he doesn't feel comfortable with this. However, she's more than desperate to stay this way, loving the feeling of his shoulder as her pillow. After all, she's come to comfort him and how better to comfort someone you love if not with closeness?

"You don't mind, do you?" she asks him, keeping her voice as soft and composed as possible, just a hint of childish innocence in her words. Her breath is not quite steady while she waits for his answer. He doesn't though and instead he relaxes again, yet she feels the need to explain herself further, put him at ease somehow.

"It's just, well… I really need some sleep but… I can't stand to be alone. And I haven't slept that well lately…" she whispers, closing her eyes as she inhales his scent. Fresh; soap, tea, peppermint and something that she can only describe with "Remus-y" which is slightly dizzying if she thinks about it. She smiles again, feeling so comfortable all of a sudden, so content in his presence.

"Your shoulder's a really good pillow, you know. Just wake me up when you go to bed" she continues but blushes a moment later as she realises the double-meaning of her words. "Gah, didn't mean… you know… I meant, just wake me and I'll go to bed, too, mine of course. Or just wake me when I snore, for that matter."

Surprisingly, he chuckles softly at this, the sound of it reverberating right through her in pleasant little waves. She can't help but smile at it, she so loves making him laugh, even if just a bit, even if only for a moment. She can feel the tension between them lessen and suddenly begins to wonder. It seems to her that she doesn't need to talk with him about what happened or about his feelings or his pain in order to comfort him; all she has to do is actually be with him, small talk with him, laugh with him – all the things she'd do on a regular basis, even if not so much the last few days. But it's all she really needs and supposes he does as well.

"You snore?"

It's the third time he's said something this evening and it's her time to chuckle. She shifts into a more comfortable position by resting her feet on the couch, inching just a little bit closer to him and burying her head just a little bit more into his shoulder in the process. He doesn't tense this time, so she supposes that it's all right.

"Hmm… But don't you dare tell another soul on this planet. I keep my flaws secret… except for the obvious ones…"

The last words, she notices faintly, already sound drowsy and tiredness gets her very fast. She mumbles "G'night, Remus" and drifts off into blissful sleeping, smiling and only vaguely aware of the tender kiss he places on her temple then and his soft whisper in her ear, stating that he doesn't think that she has any flaws whatsoever.

OoOoOoOoO

Crap? Good? What do YOU think?

So finally, my first fic is on and yeah, I'd pretty much like to know if people liked it. It's actually a fic I've written some months ago but it was one of my first for R/T and so I thought I'd start slow and put this up first before any of my other fics that are already waiting in line and eager to be read by everyone. I also have a companion piece to this one which is about twice as long and I'll put it up after there have been some reviews for this. You will review, right? Because I cannot keep my flaws secret and I really need to know what you think. Plus I won't tell you to be kind because for one thing, I can take criticism and then I would like to improve and how can I possibly improve if no one tells me what I did wrong? Get my point?

Keep smiling, people; see ya und tschüß