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It keeps coming up anyhow
Don't decoy, avoid, or make void the topic
'Cuz that ain't gonna stop it
Sunday, May 6 :: Morning

Sunlight tried to filter into Tonks' consciousness, but she was having none of it.

She'd kicked the covers off of her, as was her wont, and the dream with the ... was it a jungle? With an anaconda, or a tree branch, or something on her shoulders and anyway it went away for a while and now it was back but it was comfortable so she wasn't fighting it any longer.

"Mmmnph. Later."

Tonks stretched a bit, then turned over toward the center of the bed. She tightened her grip on the pillow under her head.

"Waffles?" she mumbled to herself.
"Waffles," Bill agreed. Waffles would be really good. Sadly, he didn't know how to make waffles, but Mum did.

He rolled over, taking most of the covers with him. Mum made the best waffles, with fresh berries and homemade whipped cream.

"Wake me when they're ready, Mum."
Mum? Where?

Tonks sat up and instinctively looked for Andromeda, who disapproved of sleeping in and of not wearing a nightgown and ... she wasn't there.

A very relieved daughter laid back down.

"Mum's not here," she sleepily informed Bill.

"No waffles?" That made him very sad.

Also, someone was making the bed move and that made his head move and that reminded him that last night there had been a bit of drinking with Tonks and that...

"Nymph?" He cracked open an eye and immediately regretted it, covering his face with a large hand.
On second thought, she'd like some of those covers right about now. Tonks snatched at a sheet to use it to cover herself.

Being naked was fine, and being with Bill was fine, but being naked with Bill was just ... well ...

Ohh, she was so not ready to figure this out yet.

Not even waffles would help.

Hangover Potion, on the other hand ...

"Maybe?" she answered the other person in the bed. "This isn't just a dream of yours, is it, Weasley?"
He peeked through his fingers at her. "Trust me, if I was dreaming there would be waffles. Although being naked is a good start."

A frown graced his lips and he sat up, and groaned. "Why are you in my bed? Naked? Am I -" Bill lifted the edge of his blanket and checked.

"Yep. No pants. Did you - take advantage of me?"
Naked waffles and sex potatoes. God, we're so messed up.

Tonks was looking around the room for her clothes — and couldn't see them, at least from where she was at. And moving more was kinda out of the question at the moment.

"I think it'd be more flattering us both to assume we'd remember ... that, don't you?"

If Moody were here ... oh, Merlin, she wasn't going to imagine that. No magical eyes seeing through everything and no no no. But it was worth considering if she and Bill were the victim of some sort of Memory Charm or something.

Tonks grimaced and gingerly looked over at the other side of the bed.

"So I don't think I did? I don't know. Are you ... sticky?"

Was he?

"Have you never heard of cleaning charms?" How else were you supposed to eat waffles and the like in bed and then sleep, really. Or have sex. Or both.
"Well, yeah, but I've also heard Healers snicker over what drunken wizards accidentally do to themselves with their wands, so."

That probably wasn't something they had to worry about; surely he would have noticed that.

And speaking of things that should have been noticed: her pants should have been by now, optimally. As warm as the bed was and as loathe as she was to get out of it and face the rest of the day ... Tonks wasn't going to be doing any magic for a bit, let alone trying to Summon things wandlessly from who-knew-where.

"I'm borrowing one of your shirts," Tonks declared. "Don't look."

Closing the barn door after the horse is gone, there, girl. Brilliant.

Tonks attempted to view the situation rationally as she pulled the shirt over her head.

"We weren't in any state to cast Charms, were we? We would have had to —"

Her voice stopped dead.

"What color are your shower tiles?"
His eyes had widened when she mentioned drunken wizards and charms gone wrong, and he quickly shoved both hands under the blanket to check on things.

Relief had him flopping back on the bed with a sigh.

Don't look. As if. If she wanted to complain about being ogled, she really shouldn't have fallen asleep in his bed starkers like that.

"They're sort of - well most of them anyway are sort of this - Mum said it was 'eggshell cream' or some crap, but it just looks dirty white to me. Except for the blue ones. And the three green ones. But I'll get those fixed eventually. Why? You want a shower? Need someone to scrub your back?" Good to know the eyebrows were still in working order.

Unfortunately, brow waggling was apparently one of those unspoken things one should never attempt with a hangover. Bill groaned and rolled out of bed, not caring that his arse - and other bits - where out there for the world - and Tonks - to see.

He pushed past her and snagged a pair of shorts, hopping on one leg to pull them on as he made his way out into the hall and to the bathroom. A quick rummage produced to small bottles of blessed hangover remedy.

Ever the gentleman, Bill downed his own and brought the other to Tonks. "Seriously though, I don't remember what happened last night. You?"
Mainly offwhite tiles. That didn't ring any bells. Nope. Not at all.

You just went to the bathroom, that's all. Stop freaking yourself out.

Luckily, Bill's shirt was big enough she didn't have to tug the hem down while drinking the remedy.

Has to be, to cover all of him ...

"Thanks." Tonks tossed the empty container in the bin, wincing at the noise. "I remember Quidditch, and I remember saying we should hit the pub after that, and that's it."

She straightened back up to look Bill directly in the eye — but something over his shoulder distracted her.

"I really don't remember why my panties would be hanging from your hallway light fixture — tell me I'm wrong and they're Charlie's?"
"I've always said Chuckles had a bit of a girlie streak in him, but I don't think those are his color, Nymph. Sorry."

Considering the height difference, the polite thing to do was fetch the knickers himself, which he did. Then he held them out at arms length, dangling from two fingers.

"I remember being at the pub. It was pretty crowded and I think I remember seeing Widow Perkins coming toward us and saying it would be a good idea to leave? Ringing any bells?"
"Ohh, and she offered to 'help' us, or at least you, home and said something about tucking someone into bed and I said that was OK, we had it covered?"

Her mother was right, she really didn't think before she spoke half the time.

Sorry, Althea, if I was rude.

Tonks blushed and morphed her arm a bit longer to be able to reach the underwear Bill had so graciously fetched for her. Jumping ... didn't seem to be so much a good idea.

"Somehow, Stretch, I think cutting back on the booze might be a good idea, next time."
"The next time? Does that mean you're planning on this to happen again?" Not that he knew what had happened this time, but maybe Tonks did.

Yeah, maybe she's just pretending not to remember, which means I must have been good if she's already wanting another go.

Bill puffed up with pride. "You know, I bet if went back to my room and gave it a few minutes we could 'remember' what happened last night, might help job some memories if we try to recreate some things."
"No!" Tonks said, much too quickly and too loudly. Cringing at how that must have sounded, she immediately began to backpedal.

"I just meant the next time we go to a picnic or to the pub. That should happen again, yeah, but this ..."

The hand that wasn't occupied in holding her underwear went up and ran through her hair.

"I don't know, Bill. I'm just not feeling too proud of myself right now, you know? I would like to remember what happened, don't get me wrong."
"Oh, sure." He folded his arms across his chest. "Bring a morals into it, make me feel cheap. I see how you are. I'm good enough to joke around with, and see naked, but sex is right out because it would be wrong."

Bill realized he wasn't really making any sense.

"Fine. I get it, you and I are friends, and that's more important than a roll in the hay." He huffed and frowned for a moment, before reaching out and patting Tonks on the shoulder. "Look, Nymph, nothing happened, the naked thing aside, because if something had happened, we would have remembered it. It probably just go hot - erm, warm last night and that's why there were no clothes. You know what they say about guys who drink too much, not that I've ever had that problem, I don't want you thinking that I can't - because I can, boy, can I, but ... I forgot where I was going with this."
"It wouldn't be wrong," Tonks clarified. "Just ... weird. For what it's worth, I don't think of you as a brother or anything hideous like that. And if we were to have had a one-night stand it would hardly have been the end of the world — but I've a bad habit of not keeping in touch when that happens, and like you said, we're friends, so that would be bad."

Tonks wasn't so sure she bought Bill's assurances, honestly. Here they had a drunken man and woman, naked and — let's be honest — willing. Well, look at the evidence and apply Occam's razor. What was most likely to have happened?

Can't prove it, though.


Oh, for crying out loud, it's your sex life, not an investigation.

"Anyway. If we were each a bit less naked, Fancypants, I'd be hugging you right now. As it is ..."

Tonks tilted her head and smiled.

"I'm pretty sure I at least cuddled you hard all night. I think I deserve a bit of breakfast."
"Oh, well if there was cuddling, then it's all good." Bill ignored the entire lack of clothing thing, and pulled Tonks into a bear hug.

A strictly friendly bear hug.

"I can do breakfast, but I'm not frying any bacon until I'm wearing more than just shorts. Got enough scars as it is. I have some sweats you can borrow if you need them."
Tonks nodded. Most of her nod was lost in Bill's chest, but she figured the idea got through.

"I'll be taking you up on that, but only if I can't find the rest of my clothes in the living room or something. I'll have a minor scavenger hunt, and then come help you cook, if you want. I can't make waffles, but I can make toast for a fry-up."

Being very careful not to let her hands wander too far South, Tonks gave Bill a final squeeze and went to check for her missing garments — she thought she could already see one of her boots.

"Fair warning," she called back over her shoulder. "If I turn out to have lost my wand I might be coming in to stick my head in the oven for being cretinous."