For the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Season Two/Round Four, as Captain for the Caerphilly Catapults, starting and ending with a conjunction.
"Or we could go to the park. Or just dinner. Or both! Or…" Tonks trailed off from her rapid-fire idea list. "Ooh, or we could have a picnic! What do you think?"
"Anything sounds wonderful with you," Remus answered, squeezing her hand with his free one, the other occupying a book on ghouls.
Tonks flushed. "But, any opinions? We could always just improvise."
"Perhaps we should pick something in case we need reservations?"
"Reservations. So do you want to do dinner?"
"I meant reservations in general."
"So no picnic?"
"We can have a picnic. It was just a suggestion, Nymphadora."
He grinned, and kissed her forehead, then her lips. "Anything you want."
As it turned out, they decided on dinner, and then dessert as a picnic in the park next door to the restaurant. But when were they supposed to go? "Well, there's an Order meeting Tuesday—"
"—And I work late Wednesday—"
"—There are no reservations open for Thursday—"
"—So that puts us at—"
"—Friday," they said at the same time.
"I work until four—"
"—Reservations start at five—"
"Five-thirty," Tonks echoed.
"We can meet there," said Remus.
"And I'll bring the chocolate!"
"Perfect," he said. "I'll make the reservations."
"All right, then." They stared at each other for a few seconds, happily. "It's a date."
And they both laughed.
Finally, finally, it was Friday. Tonks had hardly been able to stay still all day or think of much else other than their plans. The end of the workday had come with great relief, and then she spent all of her time getting ready. She'd picked out her outfit earlier but still found herself checking it over and over to make sure that it was perfect.
Everything had to be perfect.
She Apparated to the restaurant at five-fifteen. It was early, she knew, but she just couldn't stand to be home any longer.
Much to her surprise, Remus sat on a bench outside the restaurant, reading. He looked up when she appeared.
"Hi," she got out, startled.
"Hi," he said, and got up, closed the book and tucked it back in his bag. He kissed her lightly. "How was your day?"
"Long," she said before she could think about it. "How was yours?"
"Better now." He took her hand.
She nodded in agreement.
"Let's go inside, shall we?"
They went up to the host, a stout wizard in a suit at the podium, and gave him the reservations. "For Lupin? I don't think we have reservations for a 'Lupin'."
"I made them on Monday," Remus said, calm, confident, and Tonks envied him for it for just one second.
"I'm sorry, sir, but we don't have a reservation from you."
"You lost our reservation?" Tonks asked.
"Well, I wouldn't say we lost it—"
"—Tonks," Remus interrupted gently, cutting her off. He looked back at the host. "Is there any way we could get a table?"
"I'll check," the host replied, and disappeared off for a moment.
"I'm sorry," said Remus, while the host was gone.
"It's not your fault," Tonks sighed. "But now what?"
"Well, we'll see if we can get a table," he said.
The host returned. "We do have a cancellation," he said slowly, as if they wouldn't want it. "But the table doesn't have a view."
Well, who needs a view when you have Remus to look at? "That's fine," Tonks said.
So the host took two menus from a pile and led them through the dimly lit maze that was the main area, with people sitting around tablecloth-covered tables with candles.
"So fancy," Tonks commented.
"It seems strange to follow-up with a picnic."
"It might just be an odd combination in general."
They were seated at their table and started looking over the menu, and talked.
"This menu has small print," Tonks griped, holding it closer to her face.
"You could also have bad vision," Remus teased, and she kicked him under the table, harder than she meant to. Her napkin was blocking the side of the menu and she tossed it towards the half-wall next to them rather ungracefully.
And a second later received a glass' worth of water to the face.
And she noticed the flames from where she'd thrown the napkin… right into the candles, which were now all extinguished from Remus' water glass.
"Oh. Um. Sorry," she said, and tried to smile to counter almost setting their table on fire.
There was a little commotion around them.
Remus tried to help her to dry off, apologetic. "I was aiming for the candles."
"I would hope so," she said, as a waiter helped repair their table with a few waves of his wand.
After everything had settled, Tonks, embarrassed, said, "Let's just order before I set anything else on fire."
Dinner went fairly well. The restaurant didn't do a great job of getting their orders right, but the food that they got—whatever it was—was good, and nothing else caught on fire, although quite a few more things spilled, thanks to Tonks. At the end, Remus insisted on paying, which they bickered over until he won, and then they were off to the park next door.
"I… well, I bought brownies. I… tried to make them first. … It didn't go well."
"I can imagine," Remus said, amused, and Tonks again tried to kick him as they walked.
They reached a nice tree in the park illuminated by the stars that were now coming out, and Tonks spread the blanket she'd brought with her over the ground. They both sat on it, and Tonks pulled out the fudge brownies.
"So," she started, as they both started eating again, "what should our next date be?"
Remus laughed. "Getting eager already, love?"
"Well, I was just thinking… we could see a movie. Or go miniature golfing—"
"Miniature golfing?" he echoed. "How well do you think that would go?"
"Or, we could go dancing. Wait, never mind. We should stick with the movie. Or…."