Disclaimer: Really? We're doing this again? Not mine. Never has been. Never will be. I am merely a struggling writer who should be playing in her own sandbox.

A/N: Yeah, I do not know what brought all this on. I think it might be "Chasing Nothing" on repeat on my iPod.

Her flat is cold and dark. The summer rain drums lightly on her windows. The sofa in her living room is illuminated only by the streetlight across the road. Tonks sits like a small child, her legs tucked up to her chest. She's only wearing an old shirt of Lupin's, advertising a gig he was too young to go to, and a pair of aqua pyjama shorts. Her legs are covered in goose bumps, but she doesn't notice. She wonders if he'll want the t-shirt back.

The ashtray at her feet is overflowing and the smell of stale cigarette smoke is heavy in the air. She can barely breathe, but she doesn't move. She sits, staring at the door, willing him to walk through it.

As she expected, he does not. She lights herself another cigarette and shivers, only in part due to the cold. She is mortally embarrassed. She was fool enough to tell people when Remus Lupin offered to buy her a drink. She was fool enough to tell people when he laughed with her, when he flirted with her, when he kissed her goodnight. She kept their lovemaking to herself, but she knows that they are all aware of what has passed between her and Lupin.

She's not sure how she'll show her face at the next Order meeting. She's not even sure whether she ought to attend.

She stubs out her cigarette and reaches for her spoon. It'll be her second pot of ice-cream, but she has other things on her mind than her waistline.

She's halfway through it, sniffling to herself in the dark and wondering when she became so weak, so pitiful. She has never cried over a man like she's crying now.

There's a slight tap at her door. She stares at it, her hands shaking in fear and anticipation. She doesn't want to answer the door because right now she can pretend it's him on the other side of it. If she answers it and it's her mother, she's not sure she'll be able to hold back her disappointment, her tears, her anger. Perhaps, she thinks, it's better not to know. Perhaps they will leave if she ignores them. Tonks is unable to see her reflection in the mirror above the desk, but she knows she is in her natural form. She knows her long, mousy-brown hair is lank and dirty. She knows she hasn't washed his t-shirt for fear that she would miss the scent of him. She is certainly not dressed for entertaining this evening.

"Dora?"

Her heart leaps at the sound of his voice, quiet and unassuming on the other side of the door. She crosses the room in three strides and flings it open.

"What do you want?"

She hears Lupin sigh softly, but cannot see him in the darkness.

"Is there any chance I could come in?"

Tonks wants to refuse him, but she knows resistance is futile. She cannot even keep up the pretence to herself.

"Why are you here?" she asks, her voice cracking.

"I don't know," he replies weakly.

She laughs breathily, almost on the verge of sobbing. "That's a good start."

When Tonks thinks of Lupin she remembers his half-smile, his coal-black eyes, the easy grace with which he moves. She has never before seen him stumble, but he utters an obscene profanity under his breath as he stubs his toe against the leg of her sofa and she can't help the smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

"Could we possibly have some lights on?" he asks. She can't see him, but she knows his jaws are clamped tightly together.

She flicks the switch and the room is illuminated. Immediately, she wishes it was not. She tripped over the ashtray on her way to the door and a small patch of the cream carpet is now grey and covered in cigarette butts. Surrounding the sofa are bottles of Russian vodka of various fill-levels, and empty tubs of strawberry ice-cream. The windowsill is dusty. The flowers in her vase are long dead.

"Can we turn them off again now?" she asks. With a world-weary sigh, she makes for the kitchen, beckoning him to follow, switching the lights off as she passes. She's humiliated enough that he's seen the state he's left her in. She doesn't think either of them wants to be reminded of it. "So why are you here?" she asks, lighting the gas ring and boiling the kettle. "I mean, are you finished? Have you left?"

"The pack?" Lupin shakes his head. "No. I mean, well, yes. I'm here. Not permanently."

Tonks smiles wryly. "You never are."

Lupin only looks at her. She's pale and her eyelids are sore and swollen. She looks dreadful and he knows that this is by far the most he has ever managed to hurt someone. On occasion, a sharp tongue had cut deeper than he'd intended, but he's never utterly destroyed a human being before. This woman isn't Tonks. She's Tonks' shadow.

"One day, if it's still what you want, I can be."

Tonks shakes her head. "I don't want 'one day', Remus. 'One day' isn't enough anymore." She sucks in a breath. "'One day' is just an ideological unnamed date in a future we might not even have."

Lupin sighs. "At the moment, an 'ideological unnamed date in a future we might not even have' is all I can offer you."

"I know."

The kettle whistles and Tonks is grateful for the opportunity to turn away from him and wipe the tears from her eyes before they fall. "Tea?" she asks in a falsely chipper one. "Or coffee?"

"Actually," says Lupin, "you haven't got any fruit juice, have you?"

Surprised, she turns to face him. "I think maybe there's some in the cupboard, but it'll be warm."

"I don't mind. All I've had for the past month is red meat and water."

"Do you like pineapple?"

He nods.

"Help yourself. Bottom drawer on the left. Glasses are-"

"-in the cabinet above the oven."

Tonks stops short. She takes a deep breath. "Yes. Do you want something to eat? How long are you staying?"

"As long as you'll have me," he replies. Seeing the light return to her eyes, he adds, "At least, until I have to go back tomorrow."

"You get one day off and you want to spend it with me?"

Lupin meets her eyes and, as though studying her, cocks his head a little to the right. She thinks he looks like a bemused sparrow. She wants to tell him that he reminds her far more of the ethereal swallow with which he communicates and protects himself than the wolf he has been forced to embrace, but she doesn't think he'll take her seriously.

"Why wouldn't I?" His eyes widen, a realisation dawning upon him. "If I'm not welcome, I can make other plans. I didn't know you-"

"Of course you're welcome. You know you're welcome. You're always welcome here."

Lupin can't help the smile that spreads across his face, but he controls himself. "Thank you."

"And if you do want something to eat-"

Lupin offers her a grin that makes his black eyes twinkle with an emotion she hasn't seen since last July.

"Do you have butter? I don't want your half-fat, cholesterol-lowering margarine. I want butter."

Tonks laughs. "Toast?"

"Yes please."

"If I go out to buy bread, you have to promise me something. You have to promise to be here when I get back." She takes a seat at her kitchen table and puts her head in her hands in defeat. "I promised myself," she mumbles, "that I wouldn't tell you that I didn't want you to leave. I promised myself I'd at least try not to care, but I do. You left without saying 'Good-bye' and I don't know what I'll do if you do that to me again." Her shoulders shake as she sobs into her hands, mortally embarrassed because she's had plenty of opportunities to cry in solitude and she has rarely taken them. He's here and this is the worst possible scenario, but she can't stop her tears.

He sits in silence until she has regained control of both herself and her emotions. She knows that by sobbing she's lost the war for herself. She knows how he must be feeling and so there's nothing else to say.

"I couldn't say 'Good-bye'. Dora, I have always been a spy for the Order. There is already a price on my head. I can't put one on yours."

"Then why are you here tonight?"

Lupin presses his lips tightly together and hums thoughtfully, a deep sound in the back of his throat. "I know I'm not being watched tonight. Greyback is…busy. He's looking for the Carters tonight. He wants their daughter."

She narrows her eyes in appraisal, wondering if he can possibly be serious.

"And you're here?"

Lupin nods, but he's smiling and Tonks feels she can let out the breath she was holding.

"I am," he says. "I'm in Central London tonight because Greyback is hunting in the North West this week and since Mr. Carter and his family have mysteriously decamped to Munich for the week of the full moon, I think I'm going to need some sort of alibi if I want him to believe that I've never stepped foot in Stockport. So I wandered around Piccadilly Circus for a while and then I thought that since I was in the area you might allow me to visit you."

She knows her heart has quickened with excitement and anticipation and she knows she's 'getting her hopes up' which is exactly what she's been warned against, but he's here, he's really here, and smiling at her. He's confident and pleased with himself and she might catch him off-guard. He's not ready with his 'too old, too poor, too dangerous' speech because tonight, he's not. He's a professional and successful spy who's saved a child as he wishes he could have been saved.

"Is this going to be a regular thing?" she asks. "I mean, I'm at Hogwarts most of the time, but I think I can arrange-"

"I know I'm safe tonight, therefore so are you. I know he's not including me in this because he doesn't trust me not to betray him. All week I've been watched so closely that I've even slept knowing their eyes are on me. I may never get this chance again. In fact, when he doesn't catch his prey, I most certainly won't get this chance again. I can't promise you anything and even if I could-"

"Don't keep feeding me that bullshit thinking that eventually I'll swallow it."

Lupin sighs and runs a hand through his fringe, pinning it back and exposing a high forehead. "What do I have to say to get through to you? What do I have to do? Haven't you seen what I can do to myself. I'd be putting you at risk."

"I would be putting me at risk. I'm a grown woman. I can make my own decisions, but thanks for your concern."

"Everyone I love ends up wishing they'd never met me. James would probably be alive and well if he had never met me. My own father took the blame for my disease and carried that burden for the rest of his life, but every day I have to wake up and remember that he didn't force me out of the house that night. No-one did. I went of my own accord. My own father would have been happier and healthier if I had never existed. I'm trying to save you from all of that."

"I don't want to be saved. If you don't want me, just say so. Just put me out of my fucking misery, Remus. I don't know what kind of kick you get out of keeping me dangling here, but the reason I wish I'd never met you is because you don't love me. A turning of those tables would be a welcome distraction, I assure you."

Lupin laughs incredulously, getting to his feet. "You think I don't love you? You're all I've got left. You think I could put myself through the hell of not seeing you if I didn't love you? You think this doesn't hurt me as much as it does you?" He runs a hand through his hair and sighs, his fingers clenching into a fist around a clump of grey hairs. "You are all I have left. You're the reason I take the next breath. If anything happened to you, you can't even begin to comprehend what it would do to me, but the fact is that I'm one of the most dangerous people in your life. I want you to be safe so I can't possibly allow myself to be close to you. I…" He takes a deep breath and releases his hair. "I should go. It was a mistake to come here. I'm sorry. I can't apologise enough."

He composes himself and heads toward the living area and the front door.

"I just want you to know," says Tonks, unable to meet his eyes, "that I know what this is really about. I know you put this…this…alternate you on a pedestal and you worship him so much that you yourself are afraid to see his feet of clay."

Lupin stops in the doorway. "And just what is that supposed to mean?" There's a sharp edge to his voice - one she has never heard used in her direction before.

"That I love you. I love this you. I love you and your bite." She wipes her tears as though they burn her freckled cheeks. "I love everything it's given you. I love your defensive sarcasm, your compassion, your kindness, your intelligence, your insecurity, your strength. You can live the rest of your life worshipping the man you could have been and you go ahead, that's your business, but I think you ought to know that without that bite, you wouldn't be half the man you are."

He crosses the room in three strides and before she has time to register it, her lips are moving against his. His hands tangle in the hairs at the nape of her neck. She's not sure who starts pulling at the other's clothes first, but as his long fingers travel along the soft, creamy skin of her waist, pressing her against his bare chest she realises she doesn't much care.

They didn't make it to her bed, she realises as she wakes, naked, on her sofa beneath a woolen blanket the next morning. Remus Lupin, and any trace of his presence, is absent. She groans and hides her face in her hands, unsure whether to be more ashamed that she gave herself to him so willingly, or that she expected him to stay with her.

She knows she's a fool and as she dries her hair after her morning shower and brews herself an obscenely large coffee, promises herself she'll change addresses before she allows it to happen again. He's never spent the night. She's always been denied the luxury of waking up to a warm bed and his arm slung casually over her.

She hates that her heart leaps at the sight of the note propped against the kettle, but she's relieved he's left her something.

I can't say 'Goodbye'. I'm terrified by the finality of it.

I'm sorry. It won't happen again.

He knows what she needs to hear and he refuses to say it. She tears his note into pieces and throws it out of the window. She almost feels better until she catches sight of her reflection in the glass.

She pushes her long and lank mousy hair behind her ears and reaches for her wand.

Another day begins.