title: The Guard Dog
disclaimer: None of this is mine. Not even the snow. These characters belong to JK Rowling and Joss Whedon.
This is a response to #30 of the quickie challenges for Witch's Love Fanfic.
The snow was falling in soft white flakes as she stood and stared out the window. It was covered in frost on the outside and a bit of condensation on the inside from the heat of the fire. The room was very warm compared to the world outside of it. But it was not just the fire that made it so.
Willow took her finger and began tracing shapes in the glass.
"What in the bloody hell are you doing?"
She spun around. "Nothing." Willow had to smile at the man lying on the sofa in the sitting room. She'd only met him two days ago. Willow took her hand and swiped away the foolish little girl thing she'd been doodling in the pane of glass.
He smirked at her.
Willow's knees nearly buckled. Giles had left her with this Dumbledore guy, and Dumbledore had left her with this man called Sirius Black. Sirius Black who was making her feel some serious belly rumblins with his cute-ness and sexiness. And she was so not in a place to go chasing after some older guy. Not that he wouldn't be worth going after with his steely blue eyes and his wild black hair that looked like it had gotten long. Was there a statute of limitations of grief? How long was long enough before something could catch your eye again? Make your breath hitch and your palms go sweaty?
Sirius looked at her. Two days. Two days Albus Dumbledore had left him with this woman. While everyone else was off facing the newest threat of the Dark Lord, Sirius Black was cooped up in a two bedroom cottage with the loveliest creature he'd ever seen... playing baby-sitter. He was to watch her, protect her. The death eaters wanted her for Voldemort. She was very powerful and versed a bit in dark magic, dark magic that she held at bay. Dumbledore had hidden her with a guard dog. A very lustful guard dog. It was not the cleverest plan Dumbledore had ever come up with. The thoughts Sirius was having about her were not the sort of thoughts decent men had. Then again, who ever said he was a completely decent man?
There was no way he wasn't noticing her milky white skin, her green eyes, the curves and swells of her body, and all that red hair. She talked a lot too. A twitchy little American witch. Wandless. Delicate. Dark. Tragic like him. She'd lost things. Lost part of herself. But there was strength in her.
Albus had left her in his care. Here in the old wizard's little two bedroom cottage. They were after her, to be sure, but they'd never find her in Dumbledore's little house. Not with that man Rupert Giles as her secret keeper, and Sirius himself as Giles's secret keeper. Then Albus Dumbledore keeping Sirius with the fidelius charm. They'd been intricate to keep this woman safe. Those death eaters would probably find that American muggle Jimmy Hoffa before they found the darkly powerful Miss Willow Rosenberg.
"You're staring." She whispered.
Willow giggled and blushed. She ducked her head and looked away like some virgin on her wedding night. Sirius smirked a bit wider. He sort of liked it when she did that. She would blush and giggle like a young girl ought, but she was no girl. Not anymore, not with all she had seen and done.
"So I ask again, what are you doing? It's about three in the morning, isn't it?"
"What?" He rose slowly noting how her eyes, though a bit hooded, followed him.
Willow turned back to the window to watch the snow. Her breath seemed to catch in her throat as he stood behind her in the window. She could almost feel the heat of him he was so near. Or was that just her imagination? Willow hoped he could not make out the little hearts her fingers had traced in the moisture on the glass earlier. She really hoped he could not make out the one that had held WR+SB in it. How fifth grade was she right now? But he made her feel so foolishly girlie with his smirk and his easy manner.
"Isn't it pretty?"
"Yes." He murmured a bit too close to her ear.
"All white and blanket-y."
Willow turned and discovered exactly how close he was standing. "Uh... the... the snow. Snow's pretty."
"Wasn't talking about the snow." He murmured quietly while tracing a finger along her jaw.
"Oh Goddess." This was a really really bad idea. His skin was just the right amount of rough against her own.
It was not a good idea. He was supposed to be watching out for her - not just plain watching her and certainly not touching her. What on earth had Albus Dumbledore been thinking by placing him in this little house watching this absolutely lovely creature who oozed beauty and sexuality? Sirius hadn't been in a position to be attracted to a woman in a VERY long time. And he was definitely attracted to her. Very much so.
And they were alone in Dumbledore's little hideout cottage.
Only Rupert Giles and Albus Dumbledore knew they were there.
Alone. Quite alone. With a blazing fire and a comfy sofa in the room with them. With snow fluttering down from the dark night sky. A bit romantic actually. So he was going to do something about it.
Willow closed her eyes as his lips touched hers. Had to be the snow. Snow always made people act wonky. It was like a full moon. Just brought out the crazy. Just let loose with the wild abandon.
And it was here - wild abandon.
She was hardly aware of him lifting her in his arms and carrying her to the sofa he had been asleep on only minutes before. She was barely noticing that he had laid her out on it and settled himself in her thighs. There was music playing in her head, and it was all strange tingles. Willow did not stop the kissing. She should have. She knew this to be true. But no one had touched her since... in a long time. Almost seven months now. And something in her craved his touch.
So as the world drew towards darkness, as the Hellmouth tried to swallow the earth, as a bunch of dark magic fanatics following a wizarding madman were attempting to gain control over her, forcing her to be part of intricate magic to hide her, she, Willow Rosenberg was kissing... and touching... and just drowning in the man on her... and loving every second of it.
"You are so lovely." He whispered, hoping not to sound too desperate.
"You're not so repulsive yourself." She joked as she tucked an errant stand of black hair behind his ear.
He laughed at her. That was nice... the laughing. It had been far too long since he had done so. It had been far too long since he had done a lot of this business. Sirius knew he had at least fifteen years on her, but that didn't mean anything when almost twelve of them had been spent in prison and two had been spent in hiding. He wasn't sure, and he didn't really know her.
"What are you thinking?" She whispered.
"I don't know you, and it's been..."
Her fingertips on his lips stopped his speech. "Shhh. The last touch I knew was that of a woman. And even then, it has been a while. I'm thinking you can't do a lot of wrong here. It will be almost new again. Like a warm memory."
Sirius snorted. Of course. Why could it never be easy? "You're a lesbian."
"I've been known to be."
"I've also been known not to be. Yes, my last lover was female. The one before that was a male. What of it?"
"Trust me when I say that you would not be touching me unless I wanted you to, Sirius."
He smirked. His name sounded like so much more on her lips. Sirius leaned in and kissed her again. This time more slowly. He meant to enjoy every moment of whatever she allowed him to do to her.
There was a loud pop. Sirius jerked up off of her.
Giles already had those glasses of his off and was cleaning them viciously. Dumbledore looked a bit shocked.
"Oh dear. It would seem that we are a bit early, Rupert."
"We bring news that Harry and company have once again thwarted Voldemort, but I see the two of you were already celebrating. We shall leave you to it."
"Wait!" Sirius called. "Is Harry all right?"
"He is perfectly fine and will be delighted when you tell him of Miss Rosenberg."
"Tell him what?" Sirius snapped.
"Of your affection for her naturally, Sirius. Harry has often feared you would never allow your heart to breathe again. Good eve, Sirius." Dumbledore nodded at Willow. "Sleep well, Miss Rosenberg... if you are permitted to do so. I shall see you both when the sun is not only out, but high in the sky. Give you plenty of time to... well, yes. Did you know it was snowing out? Most glorious."
And with that he and Giles were gone. Disapparated.
Willow looked at this man who had been watching out for her for the past two days. She giggled when she realized that whole conversation had been carried on with him propped up but still nestled in her thighs.
He looked into her green eyes and blinked many times. Was two days enough time to become hopeless about someone you have barely even spoken to? Well, he meant to find out.
"Well, now that the man I have always thought of as my father has caught me making out with a boy on the sofa..."
"Man. Whatever. Where were we?"
He smirked. "Just about here."
As their lips touched again, the snow started to fall just a bit heavier out the window.