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Marlene had chewed off what, judging by the sting, was most of her thumbnail by this point. Nail biting had never been a particularly bad habit of hers, but it was one she was seriously considering taking up. That or day-drinking.
Sirius had said that he would be home no later than four — that was when Dorcas was going to relieve him. It had now gone eight — either something had happened to hold Dorcas up, or something had gone very wrong. Marlene was finding it difficult not to get worked up, after all, he’d been late home from a mission before, and he’d been fine that time. He would been fine this time. He had to be, it was almost Christmas. Yet, she couldn’t help but pace his tiny flat. She’d wear tracks into the carpet if she kept it up.
She’d tried to cook for him — the shepherd’s pie looked like sludge — though at least she could now blame its inedibility on the fact that he was so late… That would surely hide the fact that it had tasted terrible to begin with…
Her appetite and decreased with every passing second that he wasn’t home, she wasn’t sure she could eat even if dinner was edible.
Sirius would be fine.
Marlene sat down on the living room windowsill and looked down at the muggle street below. It was still busy, cars passing, noise from a Christmas party in the pub opposite. The latter made her feel quite alone. She shouldn’t have waited here by herself, she should have gone home, or gone to Lily and James’s. She couldn’t even get excited by the snow falling outside. It must have been going on a while without her noticing, because it had settled quite thick on the pavement.
She couldn’t remember if she’d told him she loved him before he’d left. He knew it, of course, at least she hoped that he did. But she should say it more. She’d have to make sure that she told him as soon as he got back.
And then, looking perfectly, wonderfully unharmed, he was outside. She hadn’t heard the faint pop that would have accompanied his appearance at the side of the pub — she wouldn’t have been able to from here even if all noise wasn’t currently being masked by a drunken rendition of Wizzard’s (a band name had endlessly amused her) ‘I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday’ — but he was home.
Marlene bolted to the front door, down the stairs, and out into the cold December evening. A car blared its horn at her as she shot across the road, but she didn’t care. She ran straight into Sirius’s arms, colliding into him with such force that she was surprised that he didn’t slip on the snowy ground.
“Where’s your coat? Where are your shoes?” He added with a laugh, lifting her so she could wrap her legs around his waist. Marlene lifted her forehead from the crook of his neck to get a better look at him.
“Never mind me, are you alright?” She asked, pulling back slightly, trying to check him for injuries — not an easy task when he was holding her so close.
“It’s not mine.” He said quickly when her eyes widened at the blood on his shirt. He was moving with her now, carrying her back across the road and up to the flat. “Nor anyone on our side.”
“I love you.” Marlene said quickly as he set her back down beside the kitchen table.
“I hate you, Marlene McKinnon.” Sirius grinned, hooking his arm back around her waist and pulling her closer for a kiss.
“Shut up.” She mumbled against his lips, before shoving his face away. Her heart always fluttered when he told her that he loved her, even when it was hidden in their little game of ‘I hate you.’
“You cooked?” He asked, sounding so apprehensive that it was offensive. He peered skeptically into the dish that had never really contained anything that could have reasonably passed as a shepherd’s pie, a small smirk pricking at his lips.
“Well, it’s no good now, you were supposed to be home over four hours ago.” Marlene protested defensively.
“Marley, this was no good four hours ago.” He teased, prodding it gingerly with a fork. She resisted the temptation to hex him. He was home, and he was taking the piss. He was clearly okay.
“Shut up.” She muttered again, vanishing the food with a wave of her wand.
“It was sweet of you to try.” He said placatingly. “I’m starving though and there’s no way I’m cooking now, let me just change my shirt and we’ll go and get something.”
While he changed, Marlene pulled on her socks, boots and coat. She was freezing now, and she realised, starving as well. Her appetite had returned with a vengeance, and she was half tempted to break into the box of chocolate cauldrons she had wrapped for him under the Christmas tree.
“I’m surprised I didn’t come home to find you’d opened all the ones for you.” Sirius said, leaning against the doorframe and watching her eyeing up the presents.
“I do have some impulse control.” She huffed, taking his hand as they left the flat and descended back into the cold evening.
“Of course you do.” Sirius laughed, then, catching the look on her face, clearly decided it was better to change the subject. “That chippy on the corner should be open.”
“They still wrap the food in newspaper don’t they?” Marlene asked, sure that was the one they’d bought fish and chips from not long after Sirius had moved into the flat.
“It just tastes better after it’s been wrapped in newspaper.” Sirius protested as they approached the little takeaway.
“You don’t need to convince me, Lily sold me on that one years ago.” Marlene laughed. The little bell jingled as they opened the door and she sat down on the bench by the window while Sirius went to order. “Don’t forget the curry sauce.”
“Sometimes I forget that you’re actually from the West Country.” Sirius muttered, and while she couldn’t see his face, she knew that he’d rolled his eyes — even if the woman behind the counter hadn’t been grinning at them.
Sirius was home.
It was four days until Christmas and neither of them had any missions until after. They could enjoy the time together without any worry, well, without any more worry than the usual level of worry that they always had. Sirius was safe, and it was Christmas, and they were going to have a wonderful time. She would make sure of it.