A/N: Goodbye, fluff. Hello, angst!
Waiting
He waited at her bedside. Perched on a hard chair, cradling one of her pale hands, he let the hospital noises wash over him: the dry tick of a clock, the squeak of trolley wheels, hurrying footsteps. The evidence of his own anguish, not yet suppressed, escaped him in hitching gasps. But he knew, all too well, how to make a safe place to hold this grief for Sirius. With each indrawn breath, he raised again its stony walls, with each exhalation he squeezed it tighter, until Sirius could be tucked away once more into a remote corner of his mind. And so he was ready when Tonks's eyes fluttered open; he was ready with gentle words, and reassurances, and a shoulder to cry on.
He waited in his cramped room at the Hog's Head, even as he drew her close. The length of her body was hot against him, soft lips parted beneath his, she yielded to his touch and his tongue. Still, a part of him waited. Waited for her to pull away, to reconsider, to stammer an apology. And she did step back, as he'd known she must. Then with a swift motion, she pulled her T-shirt over her head and dropped it on the floor. Looking up through tousled hair, she grinned. "What are you waiting for, Remus, a written invitation?"
He waited until he'd upended the last drops from the bottle into their wineglasses. She was curled under his arm on her faded settee, warm and relaxed. Staring into his glass, with his own ruby reflection trembling back at him, he spoke haltingly of their responsibilities to the Order, of Dumbledore's fears, of Voldemort's growing influence. Dragging his gaze from the wine, he met her eyes. "An emissary to the werewolves might counteract— And Dumbledore feels— So I've— I've accepted that mission".
He waited for her to fall asleep. Sitting by the hearth, he watched the dancing flames flicker across her beautiful face. He waited until the heat of the fire dried the tears from her cheeks. Taking up his worn satchel, he let himself out of her flat. He eased the door closed so that it made no sound at all.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading this new installment in my very mini series! If so, please, please review. I get ridiculously tickled by attention. This chapter and the next will probably be fairly angsty. I tried to avoid melodrama, but I'm not a very experienced writer, the total production from my entire writing life is posted here at fanfiction . net .
And speaking of experience (skip this paragraph if you don't want to hear me whine), I'm a shockingly slow writer, so I've been sticking with very short pieces, thinking that'll speed me up. Problem is, the shorter the piece, the more important each word seems to be. Doh! So I find myself writing, and rewriting, and rewriting... Now I'm thinking of doing a larger, multi-chaptered piece (R/T, natch). Yikes! That means a whole new problem--plot! How will I do it? Do you think I should find a beta? Or maybe a slave driver would work better? Please give me the benefit of your wisdom.