Fusspot


"Rain's coming," Remus said, sniffing the air. A gust of wind billowed over the pair of men, sending napkins skittering across the undulating grass that was lit by liquid gold sunshine. Heavy, charcoal gray clouds rolled over the horizon, anvil-headed and angry.

"Mm, yes," said Sirius, staring at Remus as the heavy sun drenched them both, casting Remus' continence in gilt, his brown hair glittering with honey colored streaks, and his tan skin like toffee.

"Want to head back?"

"Not really."

"Mm, my thought, too." Remus lay back on the red and white blanket, resting his head on his intertwined fingers. "Suppose we ought to at least water-proof Lily's basket, though."

"True," he pulled out his wand, accio'd the straying napkins and after tucking them away, he cast a water repelling charm on the aging wicker basket. "What about us?"

"What about us? I, for one, enjoy a good summer thunder storm."

"Well yes, Moony, but not all of us have your super human immune system. I'll get sick."

"Nonsense, Padfoot. This isn't a spring gale, much less a winter storm. You shan't get sick from enjoying the rain, you fusspot."

"Fusspot?"

"Yes, Padfoot. You are an unmitigated fusspot."

"Sez the worrywart."

"Yes, says the worrywart. I worry about you and James killing yourselves or innocent bystanders by accident. You worry about getting wet."

While they bickered affectionately (because, rest assured, it is indeed possible to lovingly bicker), nature had her way. The anvil-headed clouds rapidly rolled over the valley, the wind growing stronger. The sunlight became even heavier dimming, clouding over, shining like fine honey. Thunder echoed in the distance, growling low and loud.

"Really, Moony, I'll get sick," Sirius whined, "And you know what I'm like when I'm sick."

Remus grimaced, "I know very well how insufferable you get when you're ill, but I promise you you won't catch anything."

"If I do," Sirius' voice becoming velvety and seductive, "Will you play nurse with me?"

The werewolf sighed, "Yes. I promise I will be your little nurse if you do indeed get sick. I'll even wear a nurse's outfit for you if you like."

"Oooh," Sirius looked excited, "Even the little hat?"

"Yes, even the little hat."

"Kinky."

Remus rolled his eyes, but continued fondly, "You are an odd creature, Sirius. But I love you anyway."

"For it."

"That, too," came the smiling reply.


A/N: Written as a series of oneshots long ago. Thought I'd start posting them.