Disclaimer: I'm but a poor, lowly university student – thus I'm fairly sure characters from an international best-selling book series aren't mine… But maybe I should check, just in case?

Author's Notes: Well, after reading the Half-Blood Prince, I simply fell in love with the adorableness that was Remus and Tonks. So I lurked around insatiably devouring every piece of fanfiction on them I could find, and finally decided that I should add my own to the lot. This isn't my first fic, but it is my first in the HP fandom. So hopefully it'll go well, eh? So why not take a peek down below and let me know?

Summary: Sometimes it was nice to be naughty. She could let herself play this little game, as a final hurrah before her wedding…That's what she told herself as she stood outside of the pub. Remus and Tonks one-shot.


Pub Crawl

She'd been good lately… Honest!

She had paid her rent on time, she had been sassing off to Moody less, she had visited her parents for dinners like an obedient daughter should, and she had even kept up with the stacks of paperwork the Ministry loaded her with. Oh, and of course, there was that whole 'joined an underground organization to defeat the darkest wizard of all time' thing – surely that stuck her firmly in the Good category, no?

But sometimes it was nice to be naughty. Others mightn't approve, but didn't people deserve some enjoyment, some entertainment? She could let herself play this little game, as a final hurrah before her wedding…

That's what she told herself as she stood outside of the pub. Muggle, of course – all the better for maintaining her anonymity. Not that anybody would recognize her anyway, what with her being morphed. Tonight she was a curvaceous brunette, her chocolate-coloured curls tumbling elegantly down her back. She softened her features but kept her natural eyes, to match her silky top.

Striding inside, she was lucky she didn't trip – she wanted to catch people's attention, but not in a humiliating way, obviously. Countless pairs of eyes raked over her body as she confidently sauntered over to the bar. She perched on an empty stool fairly gracefully, and on the inside she was cheering at not yet having fallen on her arse. When she crossed her toned legs, her short skirt provided a tantalizing view for the fellows around her. They goggled appreciatively, and she smiled in satisfaction.

She loved her powers, she really did. Of course, she rarely ever used them to make herself into a Veela-type – she had too much self-worth to have blokes go after her solely based on looks and the fact she could turn into their every fantasy. But she had to admit, occasionally she liked to show off. It was rather amusing to see men (and even some women) drooling, not to mention it was quite the ego booster… Sometimes it was fun to tantalize and tease.

When the bartender came over, she gave him a killer grin. "Martini, please," she requested. She enjoyed Muggle drinks. She preferred the colourful ones with the little umbrellas (which she often matched her hair colour to), but a martini would probably make her appear more refined. That's what she was going for tonight – something (or someone) sophisticated.

As her order was being mixed, she slyly observed the patrons around her. There were a few couples in the booths, some dancing on the floor. A few younger boys were playing pool. The majority of men around her sat alone, eyeing her with interest. They were mostly around her age – not that age mattered to her, of course. Tonight though, she was on the prowl for somebody good-looking, somebody mature, and there were plenty who met the criteria.

Smirking inwardly, she spared a moment to wonder what her friends, family, and colleagues would think. She was often seen as the immature one, the one with a bit of a wild streak. She knew some still saw her current relationship as a fleeting crush, that her fidelity wouldn't last. If only they knew the truth…

Taking the drink that was handed to her, she nodded in thanks. "How much do I owe you?"

"It's on that chap over there," the bartender told her, inclining his head to the left.

She glanced over, seeing a cute bloke with bright blue eyes grinning eagerly back at her. Much too eagerly. Smiling regretfully back at him, she took out some of those strange paper notes Muggles used and handed it over. It was still too early, she hadn't had her fill of amusement just yet.

Taking a small sip, she peered over the rim of her glass. The lad at that table wasn't bad, neither was the one playing darts. She shot him a wink as he looked over, and he completely missed his shot. His mate began screaming at him, the dart now embedded in his shoulder, and she winced.

Quickly turning away in embarrassment, she noticed somebody sitting in the shadows. Hmm, that tall, dark and handsome specimen there in the corner… Now he was tempting. She noted how his brown jumper nicely complimented the warm amber colour of his eyes, and her heart swiftly skipped a beat.

She wanted to catch his gaze and beckon him over coyly, but before she could, the bartender had placed another glass in front of her. "Um, sorry, I didn't order another just yet. I haven't even finished my first one."

"I know," he shrugged. "But apparently that fellow over there is hoping you'll go a bit faster."

She followed his line of sight to the other end of the bar and found a man in a crisp suit leering back at her. He was attractive, sure, but obviously all too aware of that fact. She knew his kind, the ones that thought they could buy anything and anyone. Well, she wasn't for sale.

"Send it back," she scoffed (because sophisticated ladies didn't snort!), and pushed the glass towards the bartender.

She enjoyed the confused expression that came across the businessman as he watched her refusal. Obviously he wasn't accustomed to rejection, and she gave herself a mental pat on the back for providing him with an important lesson. Then she closed her eyes and took another sip of her own drink, letting the cool liquid flow down her throat and the fuzzy warmth of the alcohol spread through her.

Before she could open them again, a soft, hoarse voice rasped from behind her. "Excuse me, do you mind if I sit here?"

Ooh… Her insides gave a bit of a wriggle. Not only was this man's voice dead sexy, but he was polite to boot. She always was a sucker for the gentlemanly type. She wondered if he looked as sexy as he sounded – somehow she knew he did, but she swivelled in her seat and decided to see for herself.

Opening her eyes, a satisfied smile stretched slowly across her face. Ahh, so it was Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome making his move. Wonderful, she thought, giving him a bold once-over she didn't even bother to hide. He was exactly what she was looking for…

Not that she would make this too easy for him, of course. Playing hard-to-get was part of the fun!

"Is that the most original line you have?" she pouted teasingly. The other men around them were observing their interaction keenly, obviously waiting for her to turn him down and send him packing.

"I'm sure I can think of something better, if you like," he chuckled, a wry grin beginning to spread that she actually thought rather wolfish.

She joined in, and gestured to the empty stool beside her. "Don't worry about it – originality can be overrated." The other patrons, clearly each hoping for their own chance with her, gaped at them in astonishment. That only served to feed her laughter.

He beamed (oh, that made him seem even attractive, she gushed internally), and sat down. "May I get you another drink?"

Mmm, his politeness was certainly earning him points. Not that she was keeping score or anything – because not only had he befuddled her mind beyond its capability for arithmancy, but as far as she was considered, he had already won. Yes, he was perfect for what she wanted tonight. And judging from the way he stared at her, she was what he wanted as well.

The corners of her mouth curved up invitingly, and she finally broke away from her reverie to answer, "Yes please…"

"…John," he supplied at her wordless request.

"Pleasure to meet you, John," she responded, testing out his name, liking the way it rolled off her tongue. She was looking forward to testing out other things on her tongue as well, and she shivered delightfully at her salacious musings. "I'm …Mary."

"The pleasure is all mine," he insisted with an almost shy air. It was absolutely endearing… Oh, he was good.

When he extended his hand to shake hers, she had to stop herself from grabbing it too eagerly. She just had the intense need to feel his skin against hers… When she did, she savoured the warmth of his calloused fingers against her own.

She wondered if her eyes were glazed over with lust, because the feeling was certainly buzzing around the rest of her body. The next second she decided it didn't matter if they were, because John had just leaned in and complimented them. At least, she thought he did – all she heard was "…beautiful eyes…", as she was utterly distracted by his musky scent. She detected hints of pine and cinnamon… Delicious.

Suddenly she wanted to feel more than just his hand. Inclining her head, providing him with an enticing view of her bare neck, she whispered in his ear, "Do you want to dance?"

"Absolutely," he replied. Never removing his hand from hers, he led her over to the dance floor, their drinks long forgotten. She could tell they were both amused by the jealous glowers other men were shooting him.

Usually she wouldn't put herself in situations where she would no doubt trip over her own feet (or somebody else's) in two seconds flat, but she had thought this through. She had assessed the circumstances, just like Mad-Eye had taught her – although she was fairly certain he had not meant for her to use her training in this way. At the moment a slow song was playing, meaning she could press close and be gently supported by John's warm, lean body. Should she still stumble, well, then she would just fall into his arms, which was exactly what she was hoping for.

He held her securely, her body nestled against his, and she sighed in contentment. They seemed to fit together, like two interlocking pieces of a puzzle. The sensations overwhelmed her, but she let them do so willingly, losing herself in the feel of his hands on her waist, her face against his chest, his breath in her ear…

"You're quite a good dancer," he quietly acknowledged, and she thought she detected a touch of surprise in his tone.

"Oh, you know," she murmured coquettishly. "They say it's all about who your partner is."

"Really? I think that must be true then, as I've never enjoyed dancing more…"

She smiled slowly, seductively, glancing up at him through hooded eyes. His reflected back exactly what she was feeling, and she knew that they could both satisfy themselves with each other tonight.

"I… I live nearby," he began slowly, licking his lips. "Maybe, if you'd like to, we could…"

From his dilated black pupils and amber irises that appeared almost as if they were glowing, it was obvious what he wanted. She wanted the same, and her eyes probably shone with the same desperate desire. "Absolutely," she breathed.

With her hand wrapped comfortably in his, they wordlessly left the pub, the disappointed and disbelieving stares of the less fortunate men not lost on either of them.

: - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - : - :

The next morning she awoke in his flat, leisurely stretching out her naked body over soft sheets. She felt warm, well rested, and sinfully satiated. Without opening her eyes, she rolled over and slung an arm against the body beside her.

"Good morning," a hoarse voice spoke softly.

"Wotcher…" she mumbled incoherently, and then began to giggle. "Oops – I almost called you Remus. That would've been embarrassing, wouldn't it, John?"

"Oh yes, certainly," he responded dryly. "And I was just about to call you Nymphadora. You somewhat remind me of her, Mary, I wonder why… It must be the eyes."

"Hmm," Tonks murmured, propping her chin up on Remus' chest and squinting at him blearily. "Is that how you know who I am whenever we play our little games?"

He nodded, running his nimble fingers through her still long hair. "There's an old Muggle saying… That eyes are the windows to the soul. They always tell me who you are, no matter what form you're in. They always sparkle the same way, and remain fundamentally Nymphadora."

She beamed, snuggling into her fiancé's body as much as she could and ignoring his use of her dreaded first name. Somehow the way he said it made it sound bearable... His sweet words always managed to make her swoon, and they warmed her to her very depths as she scrunched up her nose and reverted back to her natural form.

"Ahh," he grinned. "No offence meant to Mary, but I much prefer the real you."

"Humph," Tonks huffed, purposely acting melodramatic to tease him. "Why, I think she's rather insulted! Maybe we should end our pub visits?"

"You wouldn't," he chortled, lightly running a hand down her spine. "You enjoy them too much."

That was true. At first she had suggested it merely as a lark, to get him to loosen up a tad. Not that she wanted to change him (since he was absolutely perfect, in her opinion), but what was the harm in a little fun? But oh, they had gotten much more than a little. Flirting with Remus so blatantly only served to stoke their always-burning desires for each other, and it always had amazing consequences.

"Oh, don't act like you don't like it," the Metamorphmagus then objected good-naturedly. "Did you see all those envious looks you were getting?"

"I've been glared at enough during my lifetime, thanks," he informed her, but she knew he was smiling. He enjoyed their game just as much as she did. It did him good to have glares directed his way due to jealousy instead of hatred – he would never admit it, but it really did inflate his self-esteem.

And of course, that led to other things getting inflated as well, she thought with a naughty snicker.

"Uh oh," Remus groaned, albeit amiably. "What sort of wicked things are you planning now?"

"Just our next pub outing." More specifically, it was the wanton things she would do to him after their next pub outing, but he didn't need to know that. Yet.

"If you insist," he heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Perhaps I'll be able to meet a nice girl…"

Tonks gasped playfully. "Why you –!" Grabbing the pillow she was resting on, she walloped the werewolf with all her might. Although there was quite a lot of strength behind her assault, the softness of her chosen weapon detracted from it.

"Oof," he grunted, before stopping her attack by grabbing her wrists and rolling her over, him stretched out on top of her. Then he grunted for an entirely different reason, and she decided that those wanton things she had been planning earlier really didn't have to wait…

- finis -


For the names of John and Mary I was inspired by Queriusole, whose amazing Remus/Tonks series were the first of the pairing I read on this site, and I completely fell in love with them! So just a little homage there. ;-)

Anyhoo, what say you, readers? Good, bad, in-between? Please review – lemme know if more fics would be appreciated!

Toodles,

- ish -