I am not J. K. Rowling, not even j. k. around. - is the disclaimer bit necessary, or just convention?

00:14

Lily had forgotten just how bitter the wind had gotten until she came up the stairs from the London Underground into the dappled glow of moth-swarmed streetlights. Cursing every hole in her loosely knit sweater, she crossed her arms to clutch the unsuitable fabric more tightly around her, and began the brisk walk from the station to her flat. Largely preoccupied with trying to re-arrange her bag so that it stopped bouncing uncomfortably against her legs without loosening her grip on her one pitiable weapon against the chill and trying not to think about how much she wanted to quit her crap job that had kept her out again until all hours of the night – damn those international branches – she failed to notice she was being followed until she reached the end of the block and stopped to wait for a break in the light traffic.

Suddenly, however, she was very aware of a large presence sidling up behind her, a possessive hand at her waist, and an unfamiliar voice in her ear saying, "Hey there baby doll, how about we go warm you up?" Her throat clutched as she spun around and tried to back away – stupid stupid stupid – without falling off the curb.

"How about you get your hands off me?" She was glad her voice sounded properly strong and pissed off as she dropped a hand into her bag to search out something hard and sharp.

The man merely leered and took a step closer, and Lily's hand tightened its grip on – is this a pen? Fine, whatever, it will do – when a heated, "Oi! 'The fuck, mate?" distracted them both.

Both heads turned to see the interloper – a tall, bespectacled man wearing a rather disorderly dinner suit and the bleary, unsteady demeanor of the very drunk. The slight skew to his spectacles did surprisingly little to detract from the outraged look on his flushed face as he glared at the aggressor. "What the fuck d'you think yer doing? You don't – don't grab at girls on the street." He took a few more shakily hostile steps in their direction.

Lily hesitated, rolling her makeshift weapon in her hand. It seemed she had accrued a protector of sorts – but she wasn't entirely sure how much longer he'd manage to keep to his feet. Almost as if the thought had caused it, his foot missed the curb and he toppled into the street. Trusting that any decision was better than none, Lily followed her instincts. She stomped down, hard, on her adversary's foot with a "fuck off," before hurrying over to her defender's side and grabbing a floundering limb at random to help pull him safely out of the way of traffic.

A quick glance up as she helped set him on the curb showed that the brute had departed, and she breathed easier, turning an assessing eye to the form at her feet. Desperately thankful he was conscious and apparently at least somewhat sentient, Lily still looked a bit helplessly down at the man's general disarray."Er – are you alright?"

He looked up at her, blinking her into focus, a pile of long limbs in scuffed worsted wool. "Yeah, I'm more'r less peachy. How're you? Did he hurt you?"

"Yeah, no, I'm good. Sure. Fine. Bit shaky, maybe. Um." She found herself at a bit of a loss. "Do you… need help getting anywhere?"

"Well…" he brought both hands up to sift cautiously through his hair. Lily wasn't sure if it was due to habit, headache, or to make sure his head was still attached. "To be honest, I'm not…entirely…certain. Was at my cousin's wedding, and I stepped out for a bit of air. Might've gone a step too far." He made to stand up, and Lily caught his elbow for support. His eyes went slightly out of focus as he reached his full height, and Lily gripped his elbow more tightly. She cast her eyes around the street before snapping them back and grabbing both his arms as he leaned alarmingly to the left.

"You're listing starboard, my friend." She bit her lip. "Alright. Coffee, then cab." She turned him and led his acquiescent form towards the 24-hour diner just up the street.

"Jolly good. I'm James, by the by."

"Lily."

00:31

"What can I get you?"

Lily looked from the waitress over to James, who was smiling slightly as he fussed with the small, tabletop jukebox, and considered the late hour and her own fading rush of adrenaline. "One coffee, one tea, please."

"Be right up." The waitress's departure did nothing to lessen Lily's growing discomfiture. As she glanced around the tiny establishment, she absentmindedly raised a hand to smooth her hair, and then froze – oh no – mistake – that was a mistake – I would rather not know this. The wind had run rampant through her hair, which was of a thick, curly nature and required a firm, no-nonsense talking to every morning before she dared to leave the house, and it was now about as much under her control as a caffeinated toddler let loose in a water park.

This…concerned Lily. As bizarre as the situation was, Lily had not failed to notice that this James fellow was a remarkably good-looking bloke. The sort who, had she caught a glimpse of him somewhere, perhaps on the Underground, she would have made a point to then determinedly not look at him out of an intense embarrassment directed somewhere toward the universe in general. She wondered how much finger combing she could get away with in a seemingly casual manner. Relax, you just saw this bloke fall flat on his face, and his bowtie is still on sideways. Confidence, woman. She began raking a hand through the mess in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner. "So – good wedding?"

"Wha-?" James's head jerked up, and his hand pulled away from the jukebox to run through his own hair, a strange mirroring at which Lily couldn't help but smile.

"Your cousin's wedding?"

"Oh, yeah, brilliant. Or, well, brilliant alcohol. The, um –" He broke off to mutter his thanks as their drinks were delivered. "The whole situation was a bit complicated, which in my family means it's time to hire in good catering to make sure enough strangers are around to keep anyone from causing a scene. The bartender was fantastic. Terrible jokes, but excellent Rob Roys." He took a sip of coffee. "Ohhh thank Christ."

Lily's smile turned into a smirk. "You seem better. More, um—"

"More of a person and less of a drunken circus bear? Well, you know what they say—" he slung his elbows onto the table and gave a loose shrug, "nothing like a fresh breeze, a near-death experience, and embarrassing oneself in front of a pretty girl to sober a bloke right up."

Lily gave a husky laugh, but James turned serious. "You're sure you're alright?"

Lily sobered as well. "Yeah, I'm alright. I was stupid. I should've been paying better attention."

"Yeah, well, he should've been being a decent human being."

Lily couldn't help the twitch of a smile. "Yeah, he should've. Thanks for stepping in, really."

James snorted. "Fat lot of good I did. You took him out just fine on your own. Good for you, by the way."

"Yeah, well – my dad was a cop with two daughters. It was always, 'constant vigilance,' and, '50 ways to take a man down with heels on,' and all that."

"Right on." James grinned. He had a quick, easy grin – Lily had never seen anything that matched the term so exactly and so appealingly – and wondered if it was always quite like that, or currently aided by the effects of the alcohol…

A new song started to play, and Lily noticed the grin morph into a suspicious pucker like a stifled smile. "Hang on – this is – this is My Bucket's Got a Hole in It. Did you just pick this song? Seriously?"

James – there was really no other word for it – giggled.

01:05

"—and then he says, 'it's not an eggplant, he's retarded.'"

Lily had been prepared to laugh, judging by the look on James' face as he told the joke, but the punch line took her by surprise, and the strength of her first, deep "Ha!" made the bored waitress jump on the other side of the room. "The bartender told you that joke at a wedding? That's horrible!"

James was laughing, too. "I know! I didn't know if I should be horrified, or give him an extra tip for putting that look on my grandmother's face. Oh, man."

Lily shook her head, still chuckling, but the backs of her eyes felt gritty, and she checked her watch and groaned. "I should really get going. I work in the morning."

"Shit. What do you do?"

"I – actually, I'd rather not say. It's just depressing. Suffice to say, I studied archaeology at Uni, and my current job is a far cry from archaeology." She paused. "Unless you count the old fossils I work for, which I don't."

That quick, easy grin appeared again – lord help her – but then it faded into a sort of rueful smile. "Fuck."

Lily paused with her teacup at her lips. "Pardon?"

"Bloody fucking shit fuck fucking shit."

The cup went down without ever making it to her lips. "What –?"

"Look at you. Just – look at you. You're so bloody gorgeous, and I like you – a lot, I mean, I really like you. And here I am, sloshed and making a terrible impression, and you're just perfect, and I couldn't even help you properly, and I at least fucking hope my karma's good enough that I remember you properly in the morning, because fucking hell."

Lily gaped a bit, mostly stunned, although not unaware of the squirm of delight she felt at his assessment of the situation. "I – er…"

"You don't have to say anything. Shit, sorry, what areyou supposed to say about that? S'all right. Ignore me." James frowned at his empty coffee cup, began to raise it to his lips, registered it was empty, set it back down and frowned at it more intensely.

Lily fought a blush, but allowed the smile to surface. "Don't worry about it. Really. You're not that badly off, and anyway, you're a sweet drunk, which in my mind, plays heavily in your favor."

James just looked at her, wary and hopeful. "Any chance you'd give a strange tipsy bloke your number?"

"Well…" Lily hesitated. "No offense, but just as a general rule, I don't." She bit her lip. "How about this—day after tomorrow's Saturday. Meet back here? Say…noon? We could get lunch."

"Yes. Absolutely, yes. Saturday at noon. Fuck, here, wait. Just in case I don't remember you…of course I'll remember you. Just in case I don't remember how to get to this place, lemme give you my number. Where's a napkin?" He patted his pockets bemusedly for a minute until Lily remembered the pen in her bag and fetched it out for him. He scribbled down something which might technically be called legible, and pushed it over to her. "Here. If I don't show, call me, and tell me that I'm a dunce and you're spectacular. Deal?"

Lily bit the inside of her cheek in her attempt to keep her smile down at a sane level. "Deal."

Roughly Six Months Later

James heard the door slam, followed by the chink of dropped keys and the clatter of heels being shuffled off. Lily appeared in the kitchen doorway a moment later, and slumped against the frame, eyes closed. "Please tell me you've got something in for supper so that I can worship you forever."

James grinned as he set down the knife and turned to grab her by the wrist, pulling her in for a hug and then simply resting his lips on the top of her head. "What if I told you I was getting there?"

Lily gave a muffled harrumph. "Ehh. Then I suppose I'd think you alright." She sighed and shifted her arms to hold him more comfortably.

It was a lovely, quiet moment, and since James had not yet turned on anything that involved fire, he saw no reason to hurry it. "How was work?"

Lily shrugged and turned her cheek to rest against his chest. "It was. How was your class—wait—" She pulled away slightly and furrowed her brows, trying to remember. "Thursday. Class? How was your class?"

"Good. Mendes still currently holds the position of best prof ever, so yeah, good."

"Good." Lily leaned contentedly against James for a few more moments, and then not-so-subtly peered around him to see what he had laid out on the counter. Rolling his eyes affectionately, he released her to go snoop at the ingredients. She poked around the spice bottles he had sitting out, and sniffed the marinade in which he had placed most of a chicken. "What is it, exactly, that you're making?"

"I was going for fajitas."

"Intriguing and appetizing." She looked critically at his mound of chopped vegetables. "You're going to need more onions." She started shuffling thing about trying to find some.

"I don't have more onions. Sit down. Have a drink. Tell me whatever you didn't tell me about work."

Lily glowered halfheartedly, but moved to get a bottle of wine, a screw, and two glasses. "I feel like such a drag to gripe about work all the time."

James shrugged and started fussing with the oil. "Your job sucks consistently; you're allowed to complain about it consistently." He stepped back and turned for her approval. "Does this look like the right amount?"

She shrugged indifferently as she sat down. "Looks about right to me. It's not so bad on paper. Boring and undercompensated, but not a bad job. It's just that everyone I work with is such an arse. I mean, Bates Jr. alone could fill a HR complaint binder a week, if people weren't afraid to lose their jobs over it." She set her glass down with a clunk and made a jerky, expansive movement with her arms. "And now I'm one of those patsies sitting quietly by while he runs around being a sexist, racist, classist donkey of a man. That's really the problem. I can't tell him to go fuck himself sideways like I should, because his daddy cuts my checks, and I hate myself for it."

"So quit."

"Oh, go stuff it up your trust fund, boy-o." She immediately made an appeasing motion with her hands before apologetically sliding the second glass of wine across the table so that it was within his reach. "I don't mean to snap at you, but not everyone has the luxury of keeping to their principles and paying the rent. It's stupid and sleazy and beyond frustrating, but I can't quit without seriously screwing myself over." She took a breath as if to continue, but then changing her mind, she exhaled noisily and took a mouthful of wine.

James remained quiet as he scrutinized the now-cooking meat and vegetables, and Lily scrutinized him. "What are you thinking?"

James opened mouth before simply closing it again. "I don't disagree with any of that. I'm just wondering if I can suggest what I'm thinking without you taking it the wrong way."

Lily sniffed theatrically. "I always take things in precisely the right way." James raised a brow and grinned at her askance, and Lily's lips twitched in response. "Oh, just try me. If you piss me off, I promise to forget and let you try again." She shifted, curling one leg beneath her and leaning an elbow on the table as she looked at him expectantly.

James shut off the stove with a snick and turned to face her. "You're good with your money. I mean, you're a careful spender, right? You must have something saved at the mo, correct?" He saw Lily frown slightly and make to argue, so he pressed on. "I'm not saying loads, but some." He paused, and although Lily continued to frown, she was listening, so he decided to just go for it. "Move here with me. If you don't have rent, you don't have a problem. Quit your job. Take time to find a better one without worrying about it. Go back to school, whatever you want."

"James—" Lily hesitated, looking slightly apprehensive. "That's really sweet. Seriously sweet of you to offer. But, well, I mean, first of all, we haven't known each other that long—moving in together is serious, if—"

"Lily, I know you. You know me. I don't want to live with you for the practicality of it, that's just the timing. I'm serious; I'm fucking crazy about you. I'd like you to be here. Would you be here with me?"

Something about the way he said it made Lily's heart tighten. The expression on Lily's face grew from apprehensive to troubled, and she fussed with the stem of her glass restlessly. "Well…now I don't want you to take this the wrong way. Honestly, living with you sounds pretty bloody brilliant – the idea that you'd want me to makes me a bit giddy, quite frankly." She paused. "I just feel really, really uncomfortable with the idea of…not… pulling my weight, I guess. The last thing I'd want to do is plop myself down here like a bleeding barnacle."

"Who said anything about not pulling your weight? You know you'd make sure there were enough onions. You'd remember fajitas require those, like – griddle bread things – before it was too late – shit, by the way. Hell, you called the plumber when the shower pipe was doing that weird thing. And you actually seemed to know what the fuck he was talking about. I am an idiot with a trust fund. We play to our strengths." James took heart in the way her eyes had softened during what he realized belatedly was verging on a rant.

Lily wet her lips as she considered his face. "Can I think about it?" she asked quietly.

He released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Yeah, of course."

"Good." Lily's fingers tapped on the table nervously. "Can….we eat?"

James scrubbed his hands through his hair and turned to get plates from the cupboard. "Yeah, this is ready."

Lily rose from the table to wrap her arms around him from behind and he stilled. "You're a seriously sweet bloke, James Potter. Don't think I haven't noticed." She pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. He turned into her, and she hooked a finger over the bridge of his glasses to remove them to kiss him properly. After a moment she smiled against his lips and raised her eyes to meet his. "Did you really forget fajitas meant you needed tortillas?"

"Yep." He smoothed his hands down the back of her shirt. Lily gave one of those low, rusty laughs that had first drawn him to her in his hazy memory of the night they met, and then she stepped away.

"Well, I need to eat some of whatever we're going to call this, then; it smells amazing."

"Fuck, right?"

Hello. Hi. Well, this is the first thing I've posted on ff, and I'm more than a bit nervous about it. It started off as a teeny oneshot, but I decided to go big or go home. I promise it will eventually be a muggle au, not a non-magical one, if you see what I mean. Alright. I'd love some feedback, as I mostly feel like I don't know what I'm doing. Another chapter should be along soon. Hearts and horseshoes, Amy