Lily Evans Potter had been up since six o'clock in the morning. It was now four o'clock in the morning, twenty-two hours later, and she was showing no signs of going to bed. Her eyes were fixed determinedly on the text she held. Every so often she would mutter an incantation at the cloak in front of her, though nothing appeared to change.

Fifteen minutes later, she heard the door open. Gripping her wand tightly, she went to the bedroom door. "James?" she called, warily. The wards hadn't gone off, but you never knew. Not in times like these.

"Lily, why aren't you asleep?" came the reply, and Lily relaxed, the grip on her wand easing. Slipping her wand into her pocket, she padded out into the hall.

"Hello, James," she said, ignoring his question in favor of helping him off with his cloak. She proprietarily dusted the snow off it and hung it on a nearby coat rack, which obligingly stretched out its wooden fingers to receive the garment. "It's snowing, I suppose?" she asked as she attempted to flatten his hair.

He fixed her with an exasperated look. "Hello, yes, that's a useless endeavor, don't avoid the question," he said, neatly sidestepping her attempts at small talk. Lily didn't meet his gaze. She was now brushing snow off of his robes only there wasn't any snow there. "Why aren't you asleep," he said, looking down at her concernedly.

"Because you were supposed to be home ten hours ago!" snapped Lily, pulling sharply away from him. He opened his mouth, and she threw up a hand as though to pull his words away from him. "I know, I know, it's important work, and you didn't know how long you'd be gone, and you couldn't owl. I know James, but how can I sleep when I'm worried sick about you?" Casting her gaze at the floor she twisted back and forth the golden band that had been on her finger only two months.

James sighed, taking a step forward and hugging her. "I'm sorry Lily. I know waiting is difficult, but-" She had been allowing the hug, but now Lily pulled back.

"You don't know the first thing about waiting, James Harold Potter! You're off in the thick of things, doing things, knowing things, and I'm stuck here at home, muttering spells and attempting to make flame retardant cloaks!"

James frowning, looking hurt. "Merlin, Lily, you think it's fun to be fighting off death eaters? You think it's fun to balance the Ministry and the Order?"

"You're doing something! You're fighting something that's tangible! I sit in a lab at the Ministry, inventing and testing charms that no one will be able to use until far, far after You-Know-Who is finally gone. Then I come home, and I charm things for the Order!"

"Merlin take it all Lily, Albus needs you at the Ministry, and at home! You're the best potions maker we've got, and someone has to help Poppy. You're the best at charms, too, and those things are both more useful here than in the field!"

"Well that's what I was doing, instead of sleeping, so don't nag," said Lily, turning and walking swiftly into the bedroom. James watched her retreat. With a jolt, he realized she'd been wearing his jumper. The one he'd gotten rid of three weeks ago, because its green tone had faded to gray, and there were holes in the armpits. She missed him. Of course, he knew that, but it was different to feel it in his bones.

When he came into the bedroom, it was to find his jumper in a pile on the floor. Lily was just a lump under the covers, not one bit of her visible. "Lils, " said James softly. "I'm sorry. You've got a right to stay up if you want to. I just worry. I don't like to think of you lonely while I'm gone."

The lump stirred, but Lily didn't appear. "I'm scared too, Lily. Every time I leave the house, I'm scared I won't come back. Or, when I do, you'll be gone."

At this, a redhead appeared above the covers, eyes flashing. "I'd NEVER lea-"

James interrupted, "I mean, Lily, taken. By… Just, taken," he said, not wanting to actually say 'kidnapped by Death Eaters'.

"Oh," she said softly. She'd never stopped to think that he might be worried about her. Not when she was safe at home. But then, nowhere was safe now. She'd never have thought that that could be comforting, but it somehow was. Now she knew that James was just as worried about her as she was him. She wasn't alone. "Oh, Jamie, I'm sorry," she said, crawling across the bed and curl in his lap. In light of the circumstances, he ignored the detested nickname. "I'm so sorry. Oh goodness, why is it so difficult to see things someone else's way? I'll never get good at being married," she said ruefully, burying her face in her young husband's neck.

"You're excellent at being married," said James bracingly, kissing the top of Lily's red head. "You're the best wife I've ever had," he said, grinning.

She looked up at him, with a teasing glower. "I had better be the only wife you've ever had, James Potter!"

He smiled widely, and, for an answer, kissed her firmly. "I have tomorrow and the next day off."

"I think you mean 'today and the next day'. It's five o'clock in the morning, you know," said Lily.

"Now you're nit-picking," said James, yawning and stretching. Then, just to annoy her, he ruffled his hair as he used to do.

"And you're being annoying," said Lily, pressing her palm against his head uselessly to tame his hair.

"C'mon Lily, sleep," said James, pulling her against him.

"But you're not in pajamas!" she protested, blinking sleepily.

"Hand me the my jumper you nicked from the trash," said James, smirking.

"You're my husband, I can't nick anything from you, it's all mine," Lily informed him, even as she obliged his wish.

"Oh, is that so?" asked James, shucking off his Auror's robes. Yawning again (he had been awake for a good twenty-five hours now). Without waiting for a reply, he pulled the sweater over his head. "Am I fit to sleep in here, now?" he asked.

"You haven't got pajama bottoms on, just pants," she protested, gesturing to his undergarments.

"We're married, Lily, I think we're past the point where it's inappropriate to sleep in underwear," James teased, poking his wife.

Lily squeaked and smacked James's arm. "Turn out the lights," she said bossily, snuggling under his arm and resting her head against his chest.

"Yes Ma'm," said James. He laid his spectacles on the nightstand, lazily flicked his wand, and brought darkness to the room. The last thing he did before falling asleep, was tuck his wand under his pillow. His hand met his wife's, as she was doing the exact same thing. Their fingers linked, and holding hands, they drifted into much needed sleep.