A/n: Shout-out to Basium for her help with this piece! :)

When I was seven years old my dad took me fishing. Wait, wait. Don't go. It will make sense if you just stick with me and there'll be some good old R-rated content. It isn't with my dad, just to make that clear. Good? Good. So...

We did that a lot back when there weren't as many of us and we had more time. I don't remember a lot from back then but the lessons of that day have always stuck with me. One - and this is definitely the most important one, so listen up: Patience. It took a while but we got enough fish for dinner. Two: The master bait joke is never going to get old. You snickered just now, didn't you? Thought so. This all brings us to the R-rated stuff I was talking about.

When Harry first turned me down, with a frickin' jug of water colder than Hoth, he told me that I shouldn't have sex. It sounded kinda shitty at first, but after a few years of working with magic I can see his point. That's not my point, though. He also told me I couldn't touch myself, which I took to be a joke, and ignored. Mom still wonders why that electric toothbrush stopped working and she will never, ever know.

I knew that day that I'd have to be patient. I was a little bit too young - stupid as that was - and Harry didn't want my dad to think he was some cradle robber. So I waited, I planned. Sooner or later there'd be a metaphorical bite and then all I'd need to do was to haul him in carefully. It's not a great metaphor, I'll admit that, but I'm kind of running low on time, you see. I'm right outside of the door of Harry's apartment and I've knocked, so he'll be here any-

"Oh. Hello, Molly." He frowns. "Did we have a lesson tonight?"

He gives me a once-over that lingers just a fraction of a second longer than usual and I feel my cheeks flush with heat. I'm wearing a pair of comfy cargo pants riding low on my hips, a too-small t-shirt that leaves my stomach bare. Oh, and I may have taken my bra off in the little nook provided by the stairway leading down to his basement apartment. He definitely notices.

"Kinda," I say. "Sorry. I should've called, but I was in the neighborhood, and I had an idea. Are you busy?"

He isn't. It's Friday and Fridays are drink a beer and read a paperback novel night for Harry.

"No."

He steps back and makes a 'come on in' gesture rather than actually telling me. He's a little paranoid, but with all the stuff he's been through, it's pretty much warranted. I follow him inside and check the apartment out. Mouse, his huge, furry beast of a dog is laying in the kitchen alcove, napping. Mister, his huge tomcat or tiny mountain lion, is laying atop a bookshelf near the fireplace. A book is laying open on the table and by the looks of things, Harry's already ruined its spine, the monster. A beer stands next to a can of pringles, with another two empty bottles in the kitchen. I didn't choose today just because I knew he'd be home. The beer might help, too, and every little bit counts.

"Can I have one?" I ask.

He gives me a look and I grin. "Are you twenty-one yet?"

"In a few months," I say. "Come on, Harry. I'd be allowed to drink literally anywhere but in this stupid country."

"That's both untrue and unpatriotic of you, Molly," he chides, but he grins. We both know I never wanted the beer to begin with. A wine cooler is a different story, but Harry never has any.

"Cheapskate," I mutter, sticking my tongue out.

He grabs the bottle off the table, downs the remaining third of the beer with a smug look directed at me, and says. "So… Why are you interrupting my brooding?"

I've practised the line about a hundred times in my room. More than a few of them with a hand down between my thighs, picturing Harry seated at the foot of my bed, watching me, but when he gives me the perfect set-up I choke. Badly.

"Uh. Magic. I had this idea - for a spell - well, not a spell, not really. It's more like a-"

Fuck you, reality.

I flounder and Harry put his hands on my shoulders. "Hey," he said, voice soft. "You look like you're about to pass out or something. Are you okay?"

His touch is warm and gentle, his fingers rough, and I close my eyes for a few seconds, trying to regain some of my sanity. It isn't easy when half my instincts are telling me to jump his bones and the rest are warning me to be on the look-out for buckets of ice water.

I'm about one part nauseous, one part terrified and three parts horny and it's a really confusing mix of emotions, all jumbled together. Please God. Please don't let me puke on him or something.

"I'm fine," I say, and it mostly comes out sounding sane. "I was thinking about something you told me back when you took me on as your apprentice."

He quirks an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Uh. Yeah, so... " Just say it like you practised. Come on, come on, come on. "You told me back then I couldn't, you know, go all the way."

"Because it might be dangerous before you've proven you can control your magic, yeah. What about it?"

My heart pounds faster. "I'm ready and I want to show you that I'm ready."

For a while, Harry just looks at me. I can feel the water already dowsing me in fiery cold. It's just a question of time, now.

"Show me?" He asked.

"Yeah. I mean, I'll have to do it sooner or later, and I want to do it now."

He swallows. "I'm not sure I'm the right guy. Once you're an official member of the White Council-"

"That'll be years. I don't wanna wait that long." I'm sounding a touch petulant and I can't really stop it even though I tried. "So who else do I talk to? Morgan? The Merlin?"

Harry grimaces at the thought, opens his mouth to say something, and then closes it again.

"Come on," I said. "It's not that big a deal."

He looks around the room before looking at the ceiling, considering my words. A little shiver of excitement runs through me. He's considering it. He's actually considering it!

"We can do it in the lab," I say. "Just like any other experiment. I've got a bunch of rose quartz crystals. I'll set up a two-layered circle just like you've shown me. The crystals for the inner circle, then chalk. If I lose control, they'll crumble."

"Not in the lab," Harry says, sounding a little distant, the way he usually does when there's a crisis and he's trying to work out a plan. "There's… Just not there."

For a second, I'd swear there's this ghostly wail of agony coming from the lab. I must really be losing it. Maybe it's just the shock of him actually saying yes, because for a moment we both stand there like idiots.

"Let's go to your bedroom," I tell him. I don't wait for him to say anything. I just walk away toward his bedroom. I almost wanna skip, but I don't. Instead I add a little extra sway to my hips just in case he's watching.

His bedroom is tiny, with less than two feet between the bed and the wall at either sides. I push it up against one wall to free enough space for me to start preparing. I make the biggest chalk circle possible with the available room, which still isn't much, and then set up the crystals within in.

Harry settles at the bed, one leg crossed over the other. For a moment I think I see a touch of the hunger I know is there inside him, gleaming in his eyes. It's a little uncomfortable, sitting on the linoleum floor, without any cushion, so I steal a pillow from his bed, then plant my ass in the middle of the ritual circle, and empower it with a mild effort of will.

I smile at him. It probably looks more nervous than sexy, then run my hands slowly down my body. I arch my back and cup my breasts, running my thumbs across the outline my nipples make through the fabric. It was mostly for show, but then again, that's the point of all of this. A show.

I can feel the slow build of heat, a familiar itch, and with a last pinch I let one hand drop down along my belly. Dresden watches its progress. I can see him lick his lips. Is he getting turned on? Is that why he's sitting with his legs crossed, because he's getting hard?

I unbutton my pants and undo the zipper, slipping my fingers over the fabric of my panties. In my fantasies I always looked straight at him, smirking and enjoying the way I have him under my spell… In reality, I chicken out, and closed my eyes as I push my fingers inside my underwear, moving them lightly along slick folds.

I picture Dresden watching me intently, moving up to the edge of the bed for a better view, maybe, and beginning to slowly stroke the growing bulge in his jeans. I shudder as I slowly pressed one finger inside of myself, settling into a slow pumping motion. I've tried two and it works, sometimes, but tonight's a night for playing things safe.

My thumb moves over my clit, grazing the tip delicately. I speed up and the itching slowly turns into a gentle pounding, a slow pulse of pleasure with each flick of my finger to my clit.

I can feel a small pressure building as my rate of breath increases with the pace of the pulse.

Some nights, when I pictured this, I'd stop right before I came, and look Dresden dead in the eye, and tell him he'd better get going and come with me, or we'd stop. In the fantasies, he always does, of course. Here, I don't even have the balls to look at him, never mind make demands.

Like a second heartbeat, my finger moves with it. The pressure mounts and I slow down, I don't want to end too soon.

I swallow, tensing down to my toes to stop myself from finishing.

I swear that his sharp intake of breath isn't my imagination.

I swallow and gasp when it becomes too much. I pull out, focusing on my clit with a deft and delicate finger. I let myself loose in wave after wave of pleasure, feeling my insides clenching and unclenching until I'm half laying inside the constraints of the circle, sweaty and panting.

I gather myself carefully and finally work up the nerve to look at Harry. He's sitting in the same position, hands folded in his lap, and I'm pretty sure he is hard… But he hasn't touched himself. He didn't break the circle, grab me and throw me onto the bed to ravish me. Yes, maybe I've read a few of the paperback romance novels he keeps down in his lab for some reason, so sue me.

"Looks like it worked, huh?" I say, trying for cavalier. "Do I pass?"

Dresden eyes me and then looks down at the crystals. It's a damn miracle I haven't toppled any of them. He points at one where a slender hairline fracture has formed. I'm definitely not picturing the hunger smouldering in his eyes now. When he speaks, his voice comes out rough and husky.

"Not quite. I think we'll have to give this another try tomorrow."