1A/N: I've been gone for a bit, but MMADfan's epic Resolving a Misunderstanding brought me out of my funk and made me want to write for the first time in years. So, here's a story inspired by the musical Calamity Jane that has been floating around half-formed in my mind for years.

This story takes place in 1960. I've played with Minerva and Albus's ages a little bit, I figure that if JKR can do it, why can't I?

Chapter 1

Minerva's Musings

Minerva smiled slightly as she moved her rook, not because she had just secured herself an eventual victory, but because this was her favorite part of the game. She loved the moment just after she had finished her move, because it meant that her competitor's attention would be focused entirely upon the chessboard, and she could steal a few moments to watch him. Minerva loved moments like this, when she could watch Albus completely undisturbed, his blue eyes piercing the board as he studied his next move, seeming to burn even the marble of his white chessmen. How Minerva wished that his eyes would bore into hers with that same fire and intensity!

She had loved Albus since she'd first met him, and yet he thought of her solely as a brain, a confidant, a shoulder to lean on, a reliable ear, and worst of all, that dreaded word, a friend. He could never love her as she loved him. Merlin! He didn't even see her as a woman. Not that she could blame him. She was never exactly pretty. She was tall and gawky with large breasts, child-bearing hips, harsh grey eyes, and morbid black hair. She had never dressed like the other girls or concerned herself with her appearance. She had been far too concerned with her course work. Not that she regretted it, though, Minerva mused as she watched Albus rub his chin, that was how she'd met Albus after all.

Minerva remembered it vividly even though it had been almost ten years ago. It was the fall of 1950, Albus had read one of her article's on the practical applications of inorganic-organic transfigurations during the summer, and he had been so impressed by her article that he had asked his friends to find out what he could about her, and had then proceeded to read all of her books, even her proof on the multi-animal potential for the animagus. After reading her books, he had his friends track her down. He eventually found her through a friend who had a child who attended L' Academie de La Magie in Lyons, France, a wizarding university where she was a professor of transfiguration. He had called her and asked her to give him her opinion on an article that he'd written, and they found that the worked together so well that they decided to collaborate on a book on the application of particle theory to advanced transfiguration. That book lead to more collaborations, and eventually a close-knit friendship. Albus began to rely heavily upon Minerva and Minerva's attraction to Albus began to turn into love, the most destructive love in the world, unrequited love.

Even as they became closer and began to spend more and more time together, Minerva managed to keep her love of Albus at bay. They lived in two different countries, and she knew that he could never love her, she was happy just being his friend. Then, in the winter of 1955, Minerva's life changed forever, the headmaster, Armando Dippet, died suddenly and Albus became the headmaster, leaving the post of transfigurations professor open, and Albus knew of only one person capable of filling his shoes, Minerva McGonagall.

Minerva became the transfigurations professor, the head of Gryffindor house and the deputy headmistress all at once. It was a wonderful time and a terrible time for Minerva, to be so close to Albus and yet so far away. They spent so much time together, and they behaved like a couple, they attended conferences, dinners and balls together, and yet, despite Albus's reputation as a playboy, no one ever once linked them romantically in a tabloid or a newspaper. Minerva knew that it shouldn't bother her, but she also knew that the only reason that the papers didn't connect them was that everyone knew she wasn't Albus's type, and that hurt. He always dated dim, curvaceous, petite, beautiful, desirable women, and none of them were ever very permanent. She just wasn't his type, as much as she wanted to be.

Albus leaned back in his chair, and stretched his arms. Minerva pulled herself out of her reverie, she knew that he'd decided on his next move.

A/N: I love reviews!! You know you want to send me one.